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"THE    BOY-KING. 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS 


IN 


EUROPE. 


VACATION  RAMBLES  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


BY 

HEZEKIAH    BUTTERWORTH. 


BOSTON: 
ESTES     AND     LAURIAT. 

1882. 


Copyright, 

BY  ESTES  &  LAURIAT, 
1879. 


-jlUMBRIOit.  MtSS.j. 
'W 


PREFACE. 


HE  aim  of  the  publishers  and  writer,  in  preparing  this 
volume  for  young  people,  is  to  give  a  view  of  the 
principal  places  in  England  and  France  where  the 
most  interesting  events  have  occurred;  and,  by  a 
free  use  of  pictures  and  illustrative  stories,  to  present 
historic  views  of  the  two  countries  in  an  entertain- 
ing and  attractive  manner. 
An  American  teacher  takes  a  class  of  boys  on  a  vacation  tour  to 
England  and  France,  and  interests  them  in  those  places  that  illustrate 
the  different  periods  of  English  and  French  history.  It  is  his  purpose 
to  give  them  in  this  manner  a  picturesque  view  of  present  scenes  and 
past  events,  and  to  leave  on  their  minds  an  outline  of  history  for  care- 
ful reading  to  fill. 

A  few  of  the  stories  are  legendary,  as  the  "  Jolly  Harper  Man  " 
and  the  "Wise  Men  of  Gotham;"  but  these  illustrate  the  quaint 
manners  and  customs  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Nearly  all  of  the  stories 
that  relate  to  history  are  strictly  true. 

The  illustrations  of  history,  both  by  pencil  and  pen,  are  given  in 
the  disconnected  way  that  a  traveller  would  find  them  in  his  journeys ; 


iv  PREFACE. 

but  they  may  be  easily  combined  by  memory  in  their  chronological 
order,  and  made  to  form  a  harmonious  series  of  pictures. 

The  writer  has  sought  to  amuse  as  well  as  to  instruct,  and  for  this 
purpose  the  personal  experiences  of  the  young  travellers  are  in  part 
given.  Two  of  the  boys,  who  have  small  means,  make  the  trip  in 
the  cheapest  possible  manner.  Tommy  Toby  meets  the  mishaps  a 
thoughtless  boy  might  experience.  The  other  travellers  have  an  eye 
for  the  literary  and  poetic  scenes  and  incidents  of  the  tour. 

That  the  volume  may  amuse  and  entertain  the  young  reader,  and 
awaken  in  him  a  greater  love  of  books  of  history,  biography,  and  travel, 
is  the  hope  of  the  publishers  and  the  author. 

28  WORCESTER  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAG« 

I.  THE  JOURNEY  PROPOSED 3 

II.  TOM  TOBY'S  SECRET  SOCIETY 12 

III.  FIRST  MEETING  OF  THE  CLUB 22 

IV.  ON  THE  ATLANTIC 51 

V.  THE  LAND  OF  SCOTT  AND  BURNS 71 

VI.  STORY  TELLING  IN  EDINBURGH 84 

VII.  A  RAINY  EVENING  STORY  AT  CARLISLE 104 

VIII.  A  CLOUDLESS  DAY 119 

IX.  A  SERIES  OF  MEMORABLE  VISITS 135 

X.  A  VISIT  TO  OXFORD  AND  WOODSTOCK 153 

XI.  LETTERS  AND  EXCURSIONS 160 

XII.  LONDON 173 

XIII.  BELGIUM 205 

XIV.  UPPER  NORMANDY 226 

XV.  PARIS 249 

XVI.  BRITTANY 283 

XVII.  HOMEWARD 304 


BY 

HEZEKIAH    BUTTERWORTH, 

OF    THE    EDITORIAL    STAFF   OF    THE    "  YOUTH' S    COMPANION,"    AND 
CONTRIBUTOR   TO  "  ST.   NICHOLAS*'    MAGAZINE. 


NOW   PUBLISHED. 

ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  EUROPE. 
ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  CLASSIC  LANDS. 
ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  ORIENT. 

TO   BE   FOLLOWED   BY 

ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  OCCIDENT. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


"  The  Boy-king  " Frontispiece. 

Statue  of  William  the  Conqueror  at  Fa- 

lise Half-title. 

It  is  Vacation 3 

Tommy  and  the  Bear 9 

Tommy's  Adventure 10 

Norman  Fisher-Girl 13 

King  Charles's  Hiding-place  ....  14 

White  Horse  Hill 15 

Street  Scene  in  Normandy 16 

Colonnade  of  the  Louvre 17 

Harold's  Oath 23 

Finding  the  Body  of  Harold  ....  26 

The  Death  of  the  Red  King  ....  27 

St.  Stephen's  Church  at  Caen  ....  30 
Robert  Throwing  Himself  on  his  Knees 

before  his  Prostrate  Father  ....  31 
William  the  Conqueror  Reviewing  his 

Army 35 

Mont  St.  Michel 37 

Amazement  of  Christopher  Sly  ...  46 

Norman  Peasant  Girls 49 

Pilot-Boat 53 

Two  of  our  Fellow-Travellers  ....  55 

A  Steerage  Passenger 56 

Joan  of  Arc 59 

Joan  of  Arc  Recognizing  the  King  .  .  63 

Joan  of  Arc  Wounded 67 

Signals 70 

The  Boys  Consult  the  Barometer  .  .  72 

Birthplace  of  Robert  Burns  ....  73 

Edinburgh  Castle 77 


Holyrood  Palace 79 

Mary  Stuart 80 

Murder  of  Rizzio 81 

Francis  II.  of  France 86 

Francis    II.    and    Mary    Stuart    Love- 
making       89 

At  the  Death-bed  of  Francis  II.    ...  93 
Mary   Stuart   Swearing  she   had    never 

sought  the  Life  of  Elizabeth       ...  97 

Caesar's  Legions  Landing  in  Britain  .     .  104 

Romans  Invading  Britain 105 

Massacre  of  the  Druids 106 

Druid  Sacrifice ro7 

The  Hermit       in 

Shamble  Oak 121 

Greendale  Oak 122 

Parliament  Oak 123 

Mortimer's  Hole 124 

Murder  of  Thomas  A  Becket    ....  125 

Richard's  Farewell  to  the  Holy  Land     .  129 

Limestone  Dwellings       133 

Peveril  of  the  Peak 137 

The  Boy  at  the  Wheel 138 

Boscobel        139 

The  Tomb  of  Richard  Penderell   ...  139 

King  Charles's  Hiding-place     ....  140 

Shakspearc 141 

Anne  Hathaway's  Cottage 144 

Ruins  of  Kenilworth  Castle       ....  145 

Portrait  of  Elizabeth        149 

Alfred  and  his  Mother 153 

Canute  and  his  Courtiers 154 


Vlll 


ILLUSTRA  TIONS. 


Flight  of  Empress  Maud      .... 
Death  of  Latimer  and  Ridley    .     .     . 

Rosamond's  Bower 

A  Studious  Monk        

An  Old  Time  Student      .     .     .     .     . 
House  of  a  Migrating  Citizen    .     .     . 
Fac-simile  of  the  Bayeux  Tapestry    . 
St.  Augustine's  Appeal  to  Ethelbert 
The  Saxon  Priest  Striking  the  I  mages 

Westminster  Abbey 

Trial  of  Charles  I 

Burial  of  Richard 

The  Tower  of  London 

Wolsey  Served  by  Nobles   .... 

Old  Hampton  Court 

Wolsey's  Palace 

Death  of  Cardinal  Wolsey   .... 

Children  of  Charles  I 

Oliver  Cromwell 

Queen  Henrietta  Maria 

Street  Amusements 

Street  Amusements 

"  'Ave  you  got  a  Penny  ?  "  .  .  .  . 
Victoria  at  the  Age  of  Eight  .  .  . 

Anger  of  King  John 

A  Dutch  Windmill 

Dog-Carts 

Street  Scenes  in  Brussels     .... 

Hotel  de  Ville,  Brussels 

Charlemagne  in  Council 

Charlemagne  at  the  Head  of  his  Army 

Hotel  de  Ville,  Ghent 

Van  Artevelde  at  his  Door  .... 
Charles  the  Rash  Discovered  ... 
Capture  of  King  John  and  his  Son  . 
Tower  of  Joan  of  Arc,  Rouen  .  .  . 


155 
156 

157 
157 
158 
162 
163 
169 
171 
174 
177 
i  So 
181 
185 
187 
1 88 
189 
190 
191 
193 
195 
196 

197 

200 
203 
206 
207 
208 
209 
2IO 
211 
212 

213 
217 
227 
229  i 


The  Maid  of  Orleans 230 

"  It  is  Rather  Hard  Bread."      ....  233 

Death  of  St.  Louis      . 235 

Interior  of  St.  Ouen 236 

Palais  de  Justice,  Rouen 237 

Northmen  on  an  Expedition      ....  238 
The   Barques   of  the  Northmen  before 

Paris 239 

Catharine  de  Medici 241 

Coligny 243 

Charles  IX.  and  Catharine  de  Medici     .  247 
The  Goddess  of  Reason  carried  through 

the  Streets  of  Paris 251 

Garden  of  the  Tuileries 255 

Fountain  in  the  Champs  Elysees  .     .     .  257 

Place  de  la  Concorde 258 

Entrance  to  the  Louvre   ...          .     .  259 

Fountain,  Place  de  la  Concorde     .     .     .  261 

Man  of  the  Iron  Mask 263 

Versailles 267 

Little  Trianon 268 

The  Dauphin  with  the  Royal  Family  in 

the  Assembly 269 

Forest  of  Fontainebleau 273 

In  the  Wood  at  Fontainebleau      .     .     .  274 

"  Je  ne  comprends  pas." 277 

At  Prayers 278 

Clock  Tower  at  Vire 283 

Revoking  the  Edict  of  Nantes  ....  291 

Fe"nelon  and  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  .     .  295 

The  Cathedral  at  Nantes 298 

Louis  XV 299 

Moliere 306 

The  Reading  of  "Paul  and  Virginia."     .  307 

Racine 3°9 

Racine  Reading  to  Louis  XIV.      ...  310 


ZIGZAG    JOURNEYS; 


OR, 


VACATIONS    IN    HISTORIC    LANDS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE    JOURNEY     PROPOSED. 

H  E  school  —  is  —  dismissed." 

The  words  fell  hesitatingly,  and  it  seemed   to    us 
regretfully,  from  the  tutor's  lips. 

The  dismission  was   for  the    spring  vacation.      It 
was  at  the  close  of  a  mild    March  day ;    there  was  a 
peculiar  warmth  in  the  blue  sky  and  cloudless  sunset ; 
the  south  winds  lightly  stirred  the  pines,  and  through  the  open  window 
wandered  into  the  school-room. 
"  Dismissed  !  " 

Usually  at  this  word,  on  the  last  day  of  the  term,  every  boy  leaped 
to  his  feet :  there  would  be  a  brief  bustle,  then  Master  Lewis  would 
be  seen  seated  alone  amid  the  silence  of  the  school-room. 

But  to-day  there  was  something  in  the  tone  of  the  master's 
voice  that  checked  the  usual  unseemly  haste.  Every  boy  remained 


4         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,   VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

in  his  seat,  as  though  waiting  for  Master  Lewis  to  say  something 
more. 

The  master  saw  it,  and  choked  with  feeling.  It  was  a  little  thing, 
the  seeming  unwillingness  to  part;  but  it  indicated  to  both  teacher 
and  school  an  increasing  respect  and  affection. 

Master  Lewis  had  learned  to  love  his  pupils  :  his  hesitating  words 
told  them  that.  Every  boy  in  his  school  loved  Master  Lewis :  their 
conduct  in  remaining  in  their  seats  told  him  that. 

The  master  stepped  from  his  desk,  as  was  his  custom  when  about 
to  say  any  thing  unusually  social  and  confidential. 

"  Soys,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  to  tell  you  frankly,  and  you  deserve  to 
know  it,  that  I  have  become  so  attached  to  you  during  the  winter 
term  that  I  am  sorry  to  part  from  you,  even  for  a  week's  vacation." 

"  I  wish  we  might  pass  the  vacation  together,"  said  Frank  Gray, 
—  meaning  by  "  we  "  the  teacher  and  the  school. 

"  I  once  read  of  a  French  teacher,"  said  Ernest  Wynn,  "  who  used 
to  travel  with  his  scholars  in  the  neighboring  countries,  during  va- 
cations." 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  just  grand  if  we  could  travel  with  Master  Lewis 
during  our  summer  vacation !  "  said  Tom  Toby,  who,  although  the 
dullest  scholar  in  the  school,  always  became  unexpectedly  bright  over 
any  plan  that  promised  an  easy  time. 

"  We  might  visit  some  country  in  Europe,"  said  Ernest.  "  We 
should  then  be  learning  geography  and  history,  and  so  our  education 
would  go  on." 

"  It  would  help  us  also  in  the  study  of  modern  languages,"  said 
Frank  Gray. 

Tom  Toby's  sudden  brightness  of  face  seemed  to  be  eclipsed  by 
these  last  remarks. 

"  I  think  we  had  better  travel  in  places  nearer  home,  then." 

"Why?"  asked  Frank. 

"  I  was  seasick  once :  it  was  orful" 


THE  JOURNEY  PROPOSED.  5 

"  The  sickness  is  a  short  and  healthy  one,"  said  Frank. 
"  You  will  find  it  a  healthy  one,  if   you  ever  are   rolling  on   the 
Atlantic,  with 

'  Twice  a  thousand  miles  behind  you,  and  a  thousand  miles  before.' 

I  wouldn't  be  sick  in  that  way  again  for  any  thing.  I  tell  you  'twas 
orful!" 

Master  Lewis  laughed  at  Tom's  pointed  objection. 

"  As  to  learning  the  languages,"  continued  Tom,  "  I  've  noticed  all 
the  Frenchmen  and  Germans  I  have  tried  to  talk  with  speak  their  own 
language  very  poorly." 

Tom's  percentages  in  the  modern  languages  were  the  lowest  of  his 
class,  and  Master  Lewis  could  not  restrain  a  smile. 

"  I  once  tried  to  make  a  Frenchman  understand  that  I  thought 
Napoleon  Bonaparte  was  the  greatest  man  that  ever  lived.  He  kept 
saying,  Cela  va  sans  dire,  cela  va  sans  dire  !  [That  is  a  matter  of  course.] 
I  never  knew  what  he  meant  to  say :  all  I  could  make  of  it  was,  That 
gees  witkout  saying  any  tiling? 

"  The  French  teacher  of  whom  I  spoke,"  said  Ernest  Wynn,  "  used 
to  allow  his  pupils  to  travel  much  on  foot,  and  to  visit  such  places  as 
their  love  of  history,  geography,  and  natural  science,  made  them  most 
wish  to  see.  So  they  journeyed  in  a  zigzag  way,  and  published  a  book 
called  '  Voyages  en  zigzag!  " 

"  I  would  not  object  to  learning  history,  geography,  and  natural 
science  in  that  way,"  said  Tom  Toby.  "  I  should  rather  walk  after 
history  than  study  it  the  way  I  do  now.  I  should  prefer  riding  after  it 
to  walking,  however.  I  wouldn't  be  cheated  out  of  having  a  real  good 
time  during  my  summer  vacation  for  any  thing." 

A  shadow  fell  on  Master  Lewis's  face,  as  though  his  feelings  were 
hurt  by  something  implied  in  Tom's  remarks.  Tom  saw  it. 

"  But  —  but  I  should  have  a  real  good  time  if  I  were  with  you,  Master 
Lewis,  even  if  it  were  on  the  Atlantic,  or  studying  French  in  France." 


6  ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,   VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  I  have  often  thought  I  would  like  to  travel  with  my  boys  abroad. 
I  could  take  my  first  class,  if  I  could  secure  their  parents'  consent,  the 
coming  summer." 

"  Good ! " 

Every  boy  joined  in  the  exclamation.  Tom's  voice,  however,  was  a 
little  behind  the  others,  —  "-o-d." 

"  Let  me  suggest  to  the  class,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  that  each 
member  speak  to  his  parents  about  this  matter  during  the  present 
vacation ;  and  let  each  boy  who  can  go  send  me  in  a  letter  during  the 
week  a  map  of  the  country  and  the  places  he  would  most  like  to  visit. 
He  can  draw  it  in  ink  or  pencil,  and  he  need  only  put  down  upon  it 
the  places  he  would  most  like  to  see." 

"  Good ! " 

The  exclamation  was  unanimous. 

The  boys  left  their  seats. 

Tom  Toby's  face  had  become  very  animated  again.  Presently  the 
boys  of  the  class  were  all  gathered  about  him. 

"  I  have  a  plan,"  said  Tom.  "  It  is  just  grand.  Let  us  form  a  secret 
society,  and  call  ourselves  the  Zigzagers  ! " 

"  Good !  "  unanimously. 

"  But  why  a  secret  society  ?  "  asked  Frank  Gray. 

"  There  is  something  so  mysterious  about  a  sec  ret  society,"  said  Tom. 
"  Gives  one  such  a  good  opinion  of  himself.  Have  a  constitution,  and 
by-laws,  and  wear  a  pin  ! " 

The  first  class  in  Master  Lewis's  school  parted  in  high  spirits,  their 
faces  bright  with  smiles  as  they  went  out  into  the  light  of  the  March 
sunset. 

Tom's  last  words  on  parting  were  :  "  Try  to  think  up  a  secret  for  the 
society :  it  should  be  something  surprising." 

The  first  class  in  Master  Lewis's  school  numbered  six  boys  :  — 
FRANK  GRAY,  THOMAS  TOBY, 

ERNEST  WYNN,  GEORGE  HOWE,  and 

WYLLYS  WYNN,  LEANDER  TOWLE. 


THE  JOURNEY  PROPOSED.  j 

Frank  Gray  was  the  oldest  boy  and  finest  scholar  in  the  school. 
He  was  about  fifteen  years  of  age  ;  was  tall  and  manly,  and  was  more 
intimate  with  Master  Lewis  than  with  any  of  his  schoolmates.  Thomas 
Toby,  who  disliked  Frank's  precise  manners  and  rather  unsocial  ways, 
used  to  call  him  "  Lord  I."  Frank,  however,  was  not  intentionally 
reserved :  he  was  merely  studious  in  his  leisure,  and  best  liked  the  society 
of  those  from  whom  he  could  learn  the  most. 

Ernest  and  Wyllys  Wynn  were  brothers.  Ernest  had  made  himself 
popular  at  school  by  his  generous,  affectionate  disposition,  and  his  ready 
sympathy  for  any  one  in  distress.  He  lived,  as  it  were,  a  life  outside 
of  himself ;  and  his  interest  in  the  best  good  of  others  made  for  himself 
unconsciously  a  pure  .and  lovable  character.  He  was  fond  of  music, 
and  an  agreeable  singer :  he  liked  the  old  English  and  Scottish  ballads, 
and  so  sung  the  songs  of  true  feeling  that  every  one  is  eager  to  hear. 

He  often  went  to  an  almshouse  near  Master  Lewis's  to  sing  to  the 
old  people  there.  The  paupers  all  loved  him,  and  clustered  eagerly 
around  him  when  he  appeared.  His  songs  recalled  their  childhood 
scenes  in  other  lands.  On  fine  summer  evenings  he  might  often  be  seen 
on  the  lawn  before  the  charitable  institution,  with  a  crowd  of  poor  people 
around  him,  whom  he  delighted  with  "  Robin  Ruff  and  Gaffer  Green," 
"  The  Mistletoe  Bough,"  "  Highland  Mary,"  "  The  Vale  of  Avoca," 
"  Robin  Adair,"  or  something  aptly  selected  to  awaken  tender  feelings 
and  associations. 

Nearly  all  the  children  of  the  town  seemed  to  know  him,  and  regard 
him  as  a  friend,  and  used  often  to  run  out  to  meet  him  when  he 
appeared  in  the  street.  Master  Lewis,  in  speaking  of  Ernest,  once 
quoted  Madame  de  Sevigne's  remark,  "  The  true  mark  of  a  good  heart 
is  its  capacity  for  loving."  It  was  meant  to  be  a  picture,  and  it  was  a 
true  one. 

Wyllys  Wynn  was  much  like  his  brother,  and  a  very  close  friendship 
existed  between  them.  He  was  fond  of  history  and  poetry ;  he  wrote 
finely,  and  usually  took  the  first  prize  for  composition. 


8  ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,   VACATIONS  7Ar  HISTORIC  LAADS. 

Tom  Toby  was  quite  a  different  character.  He  was  just  a  boy,  in 
the  common  sense  of  the  word.  In  whatever  he  attempted  to  do,  he 
was  sure  to  blunder,  and  was  as  sure  to  turn  the  blunder  to  some 
comical  account.  He  had  a  way  of  making  fun  of  himself,  and  of 
inciting  others  to  laugh  at  his  own  expense,  which  Master  Lewis  was 
disposed  to  censure  as  wanting  in  proper  self-respect. 

Tom  had  no  particular  friend.  He  seemed  to  like  all  boys  alike, 
except  those  whom  he  thought  insincere  and  affected,  and  such  were 
the  butt  of  his  sharp  wit  and  ready  ridicule. 

Tom  was  famous  among  the  boys  for  telling  stories,  and  these  often 
related  to  his  own  mishaps.  A  knot  of  boys  was  often  seen  gathered 
around  him  to  listen  to  his  random  talk,  his  wit,  and  his  day  dreams. 
Though  a  poor  scholar,  he  was  an  apt  talker,  and  almost  any  subject 
would  furnish  him  a  text. 

His  father  was  a  Maine  lumber-dealer,  and  he  had  spent  much  time 
with  his  father  in  the  logging  camps  and  backwoods  towns  of  the 
Pine  Tree  State.  His  adventures  in  these  regions,  told  in  his  droll 
way,  often  excited  the  wonder  of  his  companions. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  bear  in  the  backwoods  ? "  one  of  the  boys 
asked  him  one  day. 

"  I  never  saw  a  live  one  but  once." 

"What  did  you  do?" 

"  Do  ?  I  received  a  polite  bow  from  him,  and  then  I  remembered 
that  I  was  wanted  at  home,  and  went  home  immediately. 

"It  was  this  way"  —  All  of  the  boys  of  the  class  now  gathered 
around  Tommy,  as  was  the  custom  when  he  seemed  about  to  tell  one 
of  his  odd  stories. 

41 1  attempted  one  day  to  rob  a  pigeon-woodpecker's  nest  which 
I  had  found  in  one  of  the  old  logging  roads  that  had  not  been 
used  for  several  years.  The  nest  was  in  a  big  hollow  tree.  The  top 
of  the  tree  had  blown  off,  leaving  a  trunk  some  twelve  or  fifteen  feet 
high. 


'111E   JOUR.\E*'  PROPOSED. 


are. 


"  These  woodpeckers  make  a  hole  for 
their  nest  so  large  that  you  can  run  the 
whole  length  of  your  arm  into  it.  I  had 
long  wanted  a  few  eggs  from  one  of  these 
birds'  nests.  I  had  heard  the  lumber-men 
tell  how  white  and  handsome  the 


eggs 


"  I  was  climbing  up  the  tree  very  fast, 
my  heart  beating  like  a  trip-hammer,  when 
I  heard  a  scratching  sound  inside  the  bi^ 

o  o 

trunk,  and  then  a  shaking  at  the  top.     I 
thought    it    very  mysterious.      I   stopped, 
and  looked  up.      I  saw  something   black, 
like  a  fur  cap.      I  opened  my   eyes  and 
mouth  so  as  to  take  a  big  look,  and  just 
then  out  popped  a  bears  head  from  the  top 
of  the  trunk,  and  looked  over  very  inquir- 
ingly.    I  just  looked  once.     He  seemed  to 
recognize  me.      He  bowed.      Then  I  re- 
membered that  father  had  said  I  must  come 
home  earl\-.     I  dropped  to  the  ground,  and 
I  never  picked  up  my  feet  so  lively  before 
in   my  life.     I  flew.     When    I   got  safely 
out  of  the  woods,   I  thought  of   the 
woodpecker.     I  never  felt  so  glad  for 
any  bird  in  my  life.     What  a  narrow 
escape"  that  bird  had  !  /  had  been  there 
myself,  and   knew.      I  wouldn't  have 
robbed  her  nest  for  any  thing  after 
that. 

"'No,  not  I.'" 


10         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


When  Tommy  first  came  to  the  boarding-school,  he  greatly  amused 
his  companions  one  day  by  attempting  to  ride  on  the  hose  of  a  street- 
sprinkler's  cart,  when  it  was  not  in  action.  He  had  never  seen  such  a 
carriage,  and  thought  it  offered  a  wonderfully  convenient  arrangement 
for  riding  behind.  Presently  the  driver  raised  the  lever,  and  the 
amazed  lad  found  himself  caught  in  the  shower,  and  tumbled  into 
the  dirt. 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  the  thing  was  bewitched  ?  "  said  he,  as  the 
boys  gathered  around  him. 

But  his  indignation  immediately  subsided,  and  rubbing  off  the  water 
and  dirt,  and  discovering  the  use  of  the  cart,  he  was  soon  found  laughing 
as  heartily  as  the  others,  and  quite  outdid  them  in  relating  to  Master 
Lewis  the  odd  adventure. 


THE  JOURNEY  PROPOSED.  \  \ 

George  Howe  and  Leander  Towle  were  cousins  and  very  intimate 
friends.  They  were  unlike  Frank  Gray  and  the  Wynns.  They  cared 
little  for  poetry,  art,  or  music.  They  stood  well  in  their  classes  in 
mathematics  and  the  exact  sciences,  were  fond  of  boating  and  out-of- 
door  sports,  and  both  were  warm  friends  of  Tom  Toby. 

The  pleasant  relations  that  existed  between  the  teacher  and  the 
school  also  prevailed  to  a  great  degree  among  the  lads  themselves. 
Frank  Gray  and  Tommy  Toby,  being  quite  unlike,  sometimes  had  a 
tilt  in  words ;  but,  as  Frank  was  a  gentleman  by  nature  and  training,  and 
as  Tommy  had  tender  feelings,  their  differences  were  easily  harmonized. 
The  mild  manners  and  good  sense  of  Master  Lewis  seemed  to  impress 
themselves  strongly  on  the  characters  of  his  pupils.  Tommy  Toby, 
who  was  often  thoughtless  in  his  conduct,  was  almost  the  only  exception 
to  the  rule. 


CHAPTER   II. 

TOM    TOBY'S    SECRET   SOCIETY. 

PLANS  FOR  THE  JOURNEY.  —  THE  BOYS'  LETTERS  TO  MASTER  LEWIS.  —  TOM  TOBY'S 
PLANS.  —  THE  NEW  SOCIETY.  —  MASTER  LEWIS  ARRANGES  A  CHEAP  TOUR  FOR 
GEORGE  AND  LEANDER.  —  WHAT  MAY  BE  SEEN  FOR  Sioo. 

';ROM  Frank  Gray,  Master  Lewis  received  the  following 
letter  early  in  vacation-week  :  — 

CAMBRIDGE,  MASS.,  March  20. 
MY  DEAR  FRIEND  AND  TEACHER: 

My  good  father  has  consented  for  me  to  go. 
He  thinks  that  the  tour,  to  be  a  really  profitable  one,  should 
be  short,  and  that  it  would  be  better  to  attempt  to  visit  only 
a  portion  of  a  single  country. 

I  have  decided  what  country  I  would  most  like  to  visit. 
It  is  "fair  Normandy,"  the  scene  of  the  most  romantic  events  of  both  English 
and  French  history. 

I  would  go  from  Boston  to  London  ;  from  London  to  Dieppe ;  and  then  I 
would  make  partly  on  foot  a  zigzag  journey  to  the  places  indicated  on  the 
enclosed  map  of  Normandy,  and  such  others,  including  Paris,  as  you  may  suggest. 
The  old  towns  on  the  coast  of  Normandy  are  especially  beautiful  in  summer, 
with  their  cool  harbors,  fine  landscapes,  and  historic  ruins.  I  am  told  that  they 
are  favorite  places  of  resort  of  both  the  English  and  French  people,  and  that 
they  give  one  delightful  insights  of  the  best  social  life. 

In  this  journey,  we  would  have  views  of  London  and  Paris,  and  would  be  able 
to  study  that  part  of  France  whose  history  is  associated  with  old  English  wars, 
and  that  is  most  famous  in  romance  and  son<r. 

o 


TOM   TOBY'S  SECRET  SOCIETY. 


I  make  the  suggestion  at  your  own 
request.  You  are  the  better  judge  in 
the  whole  matter,  and  it  will  give  my 
father  pleasure  to  adopt  any  plan  for  me 
you  may  think  advisable. 

I  thank  you  again  for  the  invitation, 
and  father  wishes  me  to  express  to  you 
his  sense  of  your  kindness. 

I  wish  you  a  most  pleasant  vacation, 
and  am 

Affectionately  yours, 

FRANK  GRAY. 


"  Fan  me  with  a  feather ! "  Tom 
Toby  used  sometimes  to  say  after 
reading  one  of  Frank's  letters;  and 
we  are  not  sure  but  this  careful  note 
would  have  tempted  a  light  remark, 
had  he  ever  seen  it. 

Soon  after  Frank's  note,  came  a 
note  from  the  Wynns :  — 

DEAR  TEACHER  : 

Father  thinks  so  favorably  of  your  kind  invitation  that  we  venture  to  express 
our  preference  for  a  route  of  travel. 

It  is  a  very  simple  one.  We  would  go  from  Boston  to  Liverpool,  and  walk 
from  Liverpool  to  London,  en  zigzag, 

This  would  take  us  through  the  heart  of  England,  and  enable  us  to  visit  such 
historic  places  as  Boscobel,  where  Charles  II.  was  concealed  after  the  battle  of 
Worcester,  old  Nottingham,  Kenilworth,  Oxford,  and  Godstowe  Nunnery, 
Stratford-on-Avon,  White  Horse  Hill,  and  a  great  number  of  old  English 
villages  and  ruins. 

Or  we  would  go  to  Glasgow,  thence  to  Edinburgh,  and  then  make  short 
journeys  towards  London,  visiting  Abbotsford,  Melrose.  and  the  ruins  on  the 
Border. 


NORMAN     FISHER-GIRL. 


CONCORD,  MASS.,  March  22. 


14         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


We  are  reading  Walter  Scott's 
"  Kenilworth."  The  book,  as  you 
may  have  guessed,  has  caused  us  to 
set.  our  affections  strongly  on  the 
middle  of  England  as  the  scene  of 
our  proposed  tour. 

With  kind  remembrances  of  all 
your  kindness  to  us. 

ERNEST   WYNN. 
WYLLYS  WYNN. 


Later  came  a  characteristic 
note  from  two  of  the  other  boys. 

DEAR  TEACHER,  —  Our  parents 
are  desirous  for  us  to  go,  but  can 
hardly  afford  the  expense.  We  have 
permission  to  accept  your  invita- 
tion, if  we  will  travel  so  cheaply 
that  the  cost  to  each  will  not  be 
more  than  $100.  Can  this  be 
done?  We  are  willing  to  go  and  return  in  the  steerage,  travel  third-class,  and 
take  shilling  lodgings,  and  eat  plain  food.  We  would  prefer  a  tour  through  the 
great  manufacturing  towns  of  Scotland  and  England. 

Respectfully, 

GEORGE  HOWE. 
LEANDER  TOWLE. 

On  Saturday  of  vacation-week,  Master  Lewis  opened  a  much-blotted 
envelope,  and  read  the  following  rather  surprising  communication :  — 

MASTER  LEWIS,  —  Father's  answer  to  me  is,  "  You  may  go  anywhere  that 
promises  any  improvement." 

I  have  been  thinking  of  it.  One  should  see  their  own  country  first.  This 
journey  would  about  suit  me  :  they  are  very  interesting  places,  —  Newport,  Old 
Orchard  Beach,  White  Mountains,  Franconia  Mountains,  Adirondacks,  Saratoga, 
Niagara. 


KING    CHARLES'S    HIDING-PLACE. 


TOM   TOBY'S  SECRET  SOCIETY. 


WHITE    HORSE    HILL. 


Mother  has  been  crying.  She  is  afraid,  if  I  go  to  Europe,  I  will  never  come 
back  again. 

Father  thinks  that  there  is  no  danger  of  that. 

If  I  must  go  across  the  sea,  I  would  prefer  to  go  —  anywhere  you  like,  only 
take  the  shortest  route  and  fastest  steamer  over  the  water. 

Were  you  ever  sick  on  the  ocean  ? 

I  am  going  to  organize  a  society  of  travellers  in  the  school,  —  a  secret  society 
that  will  pledge  each  other  never-ending  friendship  and  assistance. 

I  may  need  assistance  myself  in  my  life.     Father  thinks  I  shall. 

I  am  trying  to  think  of  a  secret  for  the  society.  I  can  think  of  hardly  any 
thing  that  the  rest  of  the  world  do  not  know. 


Hope  you  are  well. 


TOMMY. 


16         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

The  spring  and  sum- 
mer term  —  the  session 
lasted  through  April, 
May,  and  June  —  opened 
under  unusually  promis- 
ing circumstances.  The 
prospect  of  the  journey 
of  the  first  class  seemed 
to  stimulate  the  whole 
school:  in  fact,  little  else 
was  talked  of  out  of 
school-hours. 

Master  Lewis's  cus- 
tomary address  at  the 
close  of  the  first  day  of 
the  term  was  waited  with 
impatient  interest.  When 
the  time  came  for  it,  thert 
was  almost  a  painful  si- 
lence in  the  school-room. 

"  I  shall  speak  first'' 
said  Master  Lewis,  "  on 
the  subject  about  which 
your  conduct  tells  me 
you  are  most  eager  to 
hear.  I  have  decided  to 


STREET    SCENE     IN     NORMANTY. 


make  the  journey  abroad  with  the  first  class  this  year"  — 

There  was  suppressed  applause  by  the  class. 

11  Next  year  I  hope  to  visit  Switzerland  and  Italy,  with  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  school  who  can  go,  if  this  proposed  journey  should  prove  a 
success.  I  say  this,  so  that  the  second  and  third  classes  may  feel  that 
they,  too,  have  an  interest  in  this  general  plan." 


TOM  TOBY'S  SECRET  SOCIETY.  17 

There  was  a  burst  of  applause  by  the  whole  school. 

"  I  thank  the  boys  of  the  first  class  for  their  letters  and  suggestions 
about  the  route  to  be  decided  upon.  I  think  I  have  a  plan  that  will 
be  acceptable  to  you  all.  We  will  go  first  to  Glasgow,  will  journey  en 
zigzag  to  London ;  will  there  take  the  steamer  for  Antwerp,  and  will 


COLONNADE    OF    THE    LOUVRE. 


make  a  zigzag  tour  from  Ghent  to  St.  Malo,  taking  a  glance  at  Belgium, 
a  view  of  the  whole  of  Normandy  and  the  picturesque  part  of  Brittany, 
including  a  visit  to  Paris  and  a  view  of  its  beautiful  palaces  and 
parks. 


1 8         ZIGZAG  JOURXEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LAXDS. 

"As  a  preparation  for  this  tour,  I  shall  require  the  class  to  give 
special  attention  to  the  French  language  and  to  English  and  French 
history  during  the  term." 

Even-  thing  that  Master  Lewis  said  or  did  was  popular  with  the 
boys,  but  no  decision  ever  received  more  emphatic  applause. 

Tom  Toby  was  busy  at  once,  forming  his  secret  society.  He 
called  a  meeting  of  the  boys  on  the  evening  of  the  very  first  school- 
day,  in  his  room.  The  Wynns  entered  willingly  into  his  plan,  and 
George  Howe  and  Leander  Towle  warmly  supported  it.  Frank  Gray, 
however,  treated  the  matter  rather  indifferently,  a  circumstance  that 
.Tommy  quickly  observed. 

"  The  first  question  to  be  decided,"  said  Tommy,  when  the  boys  had 
met  in  his  room,  "  is,  Shall  we  organize  a  secret  society  ?  " 

The  Wynns  asked  Frank  Gray  his  opinion. 

"  I  should  prefer  to  hold  my  opinion  in  reserve,  until  I  understand 
what  the  object  of  the  society  is  to  be." 

"  It  is  to  have  a  grip  just  like  that?  said  Tommy,  seizing  Frank  by 
the  hand,  "  one  that  takes  the  conceit  all  out  of  you,  and  makes  you 
remember  who  are  your  friends  for  ever." 

"  Then  I  do  not  think  I  shall  care  to  join,"  said  Frank,  rubbing  his 
crushed  hand  on  his  knee.  "  I  shall  probably  remember  you  as  long  as 
I  shall  care  to,  without  making  any  such  arrangement." 

"  I  think  a  school  society  is  a  good  thing,"  said  Ernest  Wynn,  mildly. 
u  It  promotes  lasting  friendships  "  — 

"  Good  for  you  ! "  said  Tommy.  "  That 's  just  what  I  wanted  to  say. 
1  It  promotes  lasting  friendship,' and,  like  a  salve,  it  takes  the  conceit "  — 

"  It  stimulates  one  to  do  his  best,  and  "  — 

"  That 's  it  exactly,"  said  Tommy.     "  I  hope  you  all  hear." 

"  Let 's  quit  joking,"  said  George  Howe,  in  a  matter-of-fact  way. 
44  A  society  for  the  purpose  of  reading  and  studying  about  the  places  we 
are  to  visit  and  for  correspondence  with  each  other,  when  a  part  of  us 
are  abroad,  would  be  an  excellent  thing.  I  hope  we  may  have  such  a 
society,  and  shall  make  our  very  best  boy  President  of  it." 


TOM   TOBY'S  SECRET  SOCIETY.  19 

"  Who  may  that  be  ?  "  said  Frank. 

"  I,"  said  Tommy,  teasingly.     "  I  thought  you  knew." 

"  I  believe  it  is  decided  to  call  the  society  the  Zigzag  Travellers,'* 
said  George. 

"  A  promising  name,"  said  Frank,  who  was  decidedly  out  of  humor. 
"  I  would  suggest  the  Zigzag  Club." 

"  I  would  nominate  for  President  Wyllys  Wynn." 

"  I  agree  to  the  nomination,"  said  Frank. 

"  And  so  do  I,"  said  Tommy  Toby :  "  at  last,  Frank  and  I  are 
agreed." 

"  Who  will  prepare  the  rules  for  the  society  ? "  asked  Frank 

"George  Howe,"  said  Ernest. 

To  this  all  the  boys  agreed. 

"  Who  shall  decide  upon  a  secret  ?  "  asked  Wyllys. 

"  I  would  nominate  Tommy  Toby,"  said  Frank. 

Tom  was  unanimously  elected. 

The  next  evening  a  second  meeting  of  the  society  was  held,  to 
which  all  the  boys  in  the  school  were  invited.  It  was  decided  to  call  the 
society  "  The  Zigzag  Club."  Charles  Wyman,  one  of  the  second-class 
boys,  was  appointed  its  Secretary,  and  general  rules  were  adopted  for  the 
conduct  of  its  meetings.  All  of  the  boys,  sixteen  in  number,  became 
members. 

It  was  decided  that  the  first  formal  meeting  of  the  club  for  literary 
exercises  should  be  held  in  a  fortnight,  and  that  on  that  occasion  each 
boy  of  the  first  class  should  relate  some  historic  story  associated  with 
one  of  the  places  he  expected  to  visit,  and  it  was  suggested  that  the 
stories  of  the  first  meeting  be  confined  to  Normandy.  Wyllys  Wynn 
was  asked  to  sing  some  French  or  Norman  song  on  the  occasion,  and 
the  Secretary  was  instructed  to  invite  Master  Lewis  to  be  present,  and 
to  deliver  an  address. 

Tommy  Toby  had  been  very  reserved  since  the  first  meeting  of  the 
club.  He  had  been  quite  ignored,  and  his  feelings  were  hurt. 


20         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,   VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  treated  Tommy  quite  right  at  the  first  meeting  ?  " 
asked  Ernest  Wynn  of  Frank  Gray,  quietly,  as  he  observed  Tom's 
injured  look  at  the  second  meeting  of  the  club. 

"  I  fear  I  was  not  quite  gentlemanly,"  said  Frank.  "  But  I  had  no 
wish  to  join  a  society  gotten  up  merely  for  fun." 

"  Tommy's  suggestion  was  the  beginning  of  the  club,"  said  Ernest 
"  Let 's  give  him  a  vote  of  thanks." 

'*  I  will  offer  the  resolution,"  said  Frank. 

"  Let  us  close  this  meeting,"  said  Frank,  "  by  recognizing  the  debt 
we  owe  to  one  of  our  members.  Thomas  Toby  is  the  real  founder  of 
this  club.  I  did  not  feel  much  interested  in  it  at  first  I  do  now.  Let 
us  give  Thomas  a  vote  of  thanks." 

Every  boy  applauded  the  motion,  which  was  passed  enthusi- 
astically. 

Tommy's  face  brightened,  and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  O  Frank,"  he  said,  "  how  could  you  ?  Ernest  Wynn  was  at  the 
bottom  of  this,  wasn't  he?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Frank. 

"  Well,  Ernest  is  a  better  fellow  than  I." 

"  Or  I." 

"  We  both  are  all  right  now !  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Have  you  decided  upon  a  secret  ?  "  continued  Frank. 

"  I  have  thought  much  about  it,"  answered  Tom. 

"  And  what  is  the  result  ? " 

Tommy  turned  to  the  blackboard,  and  wrote,  — 

"ALL  O!" 

The  boys  looked  at  the  characters  mysteriously. 

"  Is  that  the  secret?"  asked  Frank.  ' 

'  Yes,  and  I  myself  am  going  to  keep  it  for  the  club." 

Master  Lewis  had  a  private  talk  with  George  Howe  and  Leander 
Towle  immediately  on  their  return. 


TOM   TOBY'S  SECRET  SOCIETY.  21 

"  I  wish  you  to  go,"  he  said  ;  "  and  I  think  a  most  profitable  tour  can 
be  made  in  the  way  you  propose  for  $100.  You  can  at  least  visit 
Glasgow,  Edinburgh,  Birmingham,  London,  and  Paris,  and  spend  three 
days  each  in  the  three  great  capital  cities.  The  information  you  would 
thus  gain  would  be  of  great  value  to  you.  I  thus  estimate  the  probable 
expense  to  each  :  — 

Steerage  passage  to  go  and  return $50.00 

Glasgow  to  Edinburgh,  2s.  6d.,  or 60 

Edinburgh  to  London,  and  London  to  Paris  by  way  of  Dieppe, 

about  ^3,  or 14.40 

Shilling  lodgings  and  meals  for  fourteen  days 14.00 

Miscellaneous  expenses 11.00 

$90.00 

"  I  will  do  my  best  to  make  your  expenses  as  light  as  possible. 
I  am  told  that  one  can  live  comfortably  on  four  shillings  a  day  in 
Scotland  and  England,  and  for  five  francs  a  day  in  Paris.  You  will 
not  be  able  to  enjoy  our  walks  in  historic  places  outside  of  the  great 
cities,  and  you  will  probably  be  obliged  to  return  before  the  rest  of  the 
party;  but  the  very  restraint  you  will  have  to  use  will  be  a  good 
experience  for  you.  As  Franklin  once  said,  '  A  good  kick  out  of  doors 
is  worth  all  the  rich  uncles  in  the  world.'  It  is  good  for  one  to  bear 
the  yoke  in  his  youth.  You  see  what  I  mean,  —  self-reliance,  inde- 
pendence !  I  am  not  altogether  sorry  that  you  will  be  compelled  to 
make  the  journey  in  this  way." 

The  boys  thanked  their  teacher. 

When  they  had  left  him,  George  Howe  said  decidedly,  — 

"  I  never  respected  any  teacher  as  much  as  I  do  Master  Lewis. 
How  nobly  he  has  treated  us ! " 


CHAPTER    III. 


FIRST    MEETING   OF   THE   CLUB/ 

NORMANDY.  —  STORY  OF  THE  NEW  FOREST  AND  THE  RED  KING  —  STORY  OF  ROBERT 
OF  NORMANDY.  —  STORY  OF  THE  WHITE  SHIP.  —  STORY  OF  THE  FROLICSOME  DUKE 
AND  THE  TINKER'S  GOOD  FORTUNE.  —  MASTER  LEWIS  COMMENDS  THE  CLUB.  —  THE 
SECRET. 


HEN  the  boys  were'  allowed  to  go  to  Bos- 
ton, —  once  a  week,  —  they  had  access  to 
the  fine  Public  Library  of  which  that  city 
is  justly  so  proud.  It  was  observed  that 
the  whole  character  of  their  reading 
changed  from  merely  entertaining  to  the 
most  instructive  books,  after  the  forming  of  the  Club.  Such  pictur- 
esque historical  works  as  Guizot's  "  France  "  and  "  England,"  Palgrave's 
"  Norman  Conquest,"  Froude's  "  England,"  Agnes  Strickland's  "  Lives 
of  the  Queens,"  became  especial  favorites.  Even  Tommy  Toby  read 
through  Dickens's  Child's  History  of  England,  several  of  Abbott's  short 
histories  of  the  kings  and  queens,  and  a  book  of  marvellous  old  English 
ballads. 


HAROLD'S    OATH. 


FIRST  MEETING   OF  THE   CLUB.  25 

The  Club  met  as  appointed.  Each  of  the  six  boys  had  made  his 
best  preparation  for  the  exercises  of  the  evening.  All  the  boys  were 
present ;  and  Master  Lewis  and  his  little  daughter  Florence  sat  beside 
young  President  Wynn,  on  the  platform. 

Wyilys  Wynn  was  the  first  speaker. 

"  Although  President  of  the  Club,"  he  said,  "  I  am  expected  to  take 
part  in  these  exercises,  and  have  been  asked  to  present  my  story  first. 
Normandy  is  our  subject  to-night,  and  there  is  no  name  that  is  so 
famously  associated  with  the  old  Norman  cities  we  expect  to  visit  — 
Caen,  Falaise,  Rouen,  Fecamp,  St.  Valery  —  as  that  of  William  the 
Conqueror.  I  will  tell  you  the  story  of  his  life,  and  call  it 

THE   NEW   FOREST. 

"  About  eight  hundred  years  ago,  William,  Duke  of  Normandy, 
aspired  to  become  King  of  England,  and  to  wear  the  crown  whose 
rightful  claimant  was  Edgar  Atheling.  He  made  Harold,  another  heir 
to  the  English  crown,  support  his  claim,  and  take  an  oath  to  be  true 
to  him.  To  make  Harold  feel  how  solemn  was  an  oath,  he  obliged 
him  to  swear  it  over  a  chest  full  of  dead  men's  bones. 

"  But  Harold  disregarded  the  oath  that  he  had  taken  over  the  chest 
of  bones  in  Normandy ;  and,  when  old  Edward,  who  was  called  The 
Confessor,  died,  he  seized  the  crown  and  royal  treasure  for  himself, 
being  counselled  to  do  so  by  an  assembly  of  nobles  called  the  Witena- 
gemote. 

"  Duke  William  was  an  ambitious  and  a  fiery-minded  man.  He 
gathered  an  army  of  sixty  thousand  men,  and  a  fleet  of  a  thousand 
vessels  and  transports ;  and  one  September  day  he  sailed  from  St.  Valery 
with  his  army  and  fleet,  the  trumpets  sounding  and  a  thousand  banners 
rising  to  the  wind.  His  own  ship  had  many-colored  sails:  from  its 
mast  floated  the  banner  of  the  three  Norman  Lions ;  and  a  golden  boy, 
pointing  to  England,  glittered  on  the  prov.-. 


26          ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,   VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


"  This  fleet  came  into  the  harbor  of  Pevensey.  He  led  his  army  to 
Hastings ;  and  there,  on  a  bright  afternoon  in  October,  he  met  the  army 
of  Harold. 

"  Duke  William  reviewed  his  army,  and  caused  his  men  to  pray  for 
victory  ere  they  laid  down  beneath  the  moon  and  stars  to  rest.  In  the 
morning,  they  sung  an  ode,  called  the  War  Song  of  Roland :  then  a 
battle  was  fought,  and  the  three  Norman  Lions  at  night  waved  triumph- 
antly over  the  field. 

"  Harold  was  slain,  and 
the  monks  wandered  over 
the  battle-ground  to  find 
his  body.  It  was  discov- 
ered at  last,  a  despoiled 
and  discrowned  figure,  by 
Edith  Swansneck,  a  beau- 
tiful girl  who  loved  Har- 
old and  whom  the  dead 
king  had  loved. 

"Then  William  re- 
turned to  Normandy.  Fe- 
camp blazed  in  his  honor, 
and  all  the  cities  received 
him  with  loud  acclaim. 

"  A  hard  king  was 
Duke  William.  With  his 
great  army  of  Normans, 
he  marched  over  England, 
suppressing  all  who  opposed  him.  The  rivers  were  tinged  with  blood, 
the  beautiful  English  towns  were  reduced  to  ash-heaps,  the  land  was 
blackened  with  fire:  he  is  said  to  have  killed  or  maimed  a  hundred 
thousand  people. 

"  Having  conquered  England,  he  sought  enjoyment,  and  turned  his 


FINDING   THE    BODY   OF    HAROLD 


THE   DEATH    OF   THE   RED    KING 


MEETING   OF  TtfE   CLUB. 


29 


attention  to  field-sports  and  to  hunting.  He  had  sixty-eight  royal 
forests,  full  of  stags  and  deer;  but  he  permitted  no  one  but  himself  and 
the  people  of  his  court  to  hunt  in  them. 

"  At  Winchester,  he  thought  it  would  be  a  fine  thing  to  have  a  great 
hunting-park  near  his  residence.  There  was  a  tract  of  country  in  the 
county  of  Hampshire,  very  picturesque  and  beautiful,  that  he  determined 
to  use  for  this  purpose.  But  there  were  churches  scattered  among  the 
hills ;  and  thousands  of  peasants  dwelt  here,  who  had  rude  but  happy 
homes. 

"  William  cared  little  for  the  churches  and  less  for  the  homes  of  the 
peasants ;  so  he  sent  soldiers  to  burn  the  former,  and  to  drive  the  people 
away  from  the  latter. 

"  Nothing  was  done  by  the  ruthless  king  to  supply  the  wants  of  the 
people,  or  to  relieve  their  misery.  They  left  their  native  hills  with 
wailing  and  weeping  and  wringing  of  hands,  uttering  imprecations  on 
the  head  of  the  Conqueror  and  upon  his  race. 

"  The  stags  multiplied,  and  the  deer  increased ;  and  delightful  to 
the  Norman  was  the  New  Forest,  on  the  golden  autumn  days. 

"  One  day,  one  of  the  king's  sons,  a  fair-haired  youth,  named  Richard, 
went  to  hunt  in  this  New  Forest. 

"  He  encountered  a  stag.  The  animal,  maddened  by  the  attack, 
rushed  upon  the  prince,  and  killed  him. 

"  As  the  dead  body  was  borne  from  the  forest,  broken  and  stained 
with  blood,  the  people  said  that  this  was  a  beginning  of  the  reckoning 
God  would  make  with  William,  and  that  the  New  Forest  would  prove 
an  unquiet  place  to  the  Conqueror  and  to  those  of  his  blood. 

"  Foolish  and  -superstitious  stones  began  to  be  circulated.  The 
people  said  that  the  New  Forest  was  haunted;  that  spirits  were  seen, 
by  moonlight,  gliding  among  the  dusky  trees ;  that  demons  revelled 
there  when  the  tempest  arose,  and  the  lightnings  flashed,  and  the  rain 
.ashed  on  the  great  oaks.  The  old  foresters  did  not  wish  to  return  to 
it  now.  They  talked  of  it  in  low  whispers,  as  of  a  place  accursed. 


-O         ZIGZAG  JOL'RXEVS;   OK,   VACAT/OXS  I.\'  HISTORIC  LA.\DS. 

«J 

At  last  William  died.  It  was  a  bitter  death.  The  Conqueror 
trembled  before  that  CONQUEROR  to  whom  the  princes  of  the  earth  must 
yield. 

44  It  is  said  that,  when  he  had  reached  the  height  of  his  fame,  he 
declared  that  he  would  surrender  his  crowns  and  kingdom  to  know  again 
4  |>eace  of  mind,  the  love  of  a  true  friend,  or  the  innocent  sleep  of  a 
child.' 

44  When  his  last  hour  drew  near,  the  nobles  fled  from  his  bedside. 
His  sen-ants  pillaged  the  apartment  where  he  died,  and  rolled  the  dead 
body  from  the  bed,  and  left  it  lying  on  the  floor.  A  good  knight  took 
it  up,  and  carried  it  to  St.  Stephen's  Church,  at  Caen. 


ST.  STEPHEN'.-*  CHURCH  AT  CAE.V 


ROBERT  THROWING   HIMSELF  ON   HIS  KNEES   BEFORE   HIS   PROSTRATE   FATHER. 


FIRST  MEETING   OF  THE   CLUB. 


33 


"  He  left  three  sons,  William  Rufus,  Robert,  and  Henry.  To  the  first 
he  bequeathed  England,  to  the  second  Normandy,  and  to  the  last 
,£5,000. 

"  William  Rufus  now  became  king  of  England.  He  was  called  the 
Red  King,  because  he  had  a  red  face  and  red  hair ;  and  a  red  king  he 
proved  to  be,  in  another  sense. 

"  The  Red  King,  like  his  father,  quarrelled  with  everybody,  and,  like 
him,  sought  and  found  enjoyment  by  hunting  in  the  New  Forest. 

"  One  pleasant  day  in  May,  when  the  leaves  were  tender,  and  the 
ferny  hills  were  sunny  and  sprinkled  with  flowers,  another  Richard,  the 
son  ot  Robert  of  Normandy,  went  to  hunt  in  the  New  Forest.  After  a 
merry  time,  he  was  accidentally  shot  by  an  arrow.  Again  a  mournful 
retinue  came  out  of  the  forest,  bearing  the  body  of  a  prince,  stained 
with  blood. 

"  August  came,  with  its  young  deer  and  newly  fledged  birds.  The 
Red  King,  with  his  brother  Henry  and  a  great  court-party,  went  to  the 
New  Forest,  to  spend  some  days  in  hunting  and  feasting.  The  first 
day  sped  merrily,  and  was  followed  by  a  banquet.  It  was  held  at  a 
place  called  Mai  wood- Keep,  a  famous  lodge  for  royal  hunting-parties. 

"  The  next  night,  a  man  with  a  coal-cart  was  riding  in  the  New 
Forest,  when  he  discovered  a  body  lying  by  the  way,  pierced  by  an  arrow 
in  the  breast. .  He  laid  it  in  his  dirty  cart,  and  jogged  on.  It  was  the 
Red  King. 

"  Many  stories  are  told  of  the  manner  in  which  the  king  was  killed. 
Some  say  that  he  was  accidentally  shot  by  Sir  WTalter  Tyrrel,  a  famous 
hunter  in  those  days. 

"  It  is  said  that  the  king  and  Sir  Walter  came  upon  a  stag.  The 
king  drew  his  bow,  and  the  string  broke. 

" '  Shoot,  Walter! '  said  the  king. 

"  The  arrow  flew,  struck  a  tree,  glanced,  and  buried  itself  in  the  king's 
breast.  He  died  where  the  poor  peasants  had  foretold  he  would  die,  in 
the  New  Forest. 


34         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

* 

"  We  hope  to  visit  Caen,  and  its  cathedral,  an  edifice  that  was  founded 
by  the  Conqueror,  and  that  has  grown  for  nearly  a  thousand  years. 
The  Conqueror's  tomb  is  before  the  altar,  but  his  bones  were  scattered 
by  the  Huguenots  in  1562." 

Wyllys  Wynn's  story  was  applauded ;  and  Master  Lewis,  amid  the 
applause,  said  audibly,  — 

"  Excellent !  " 

Frank  Gray  followed  :  — 

"  Our  President  has  told  you  the  history  of  William  the  Conqueror 
and  of  one  of  his  sons,  in  his  story  of  the  New  Forest.  I  will  try  to  tell 
vou 

«/ 

THE  STORY  OF  ROBERT  OF  NORMANDY. 

"  Robert  of  Normandy  was  the  second  son  of  the  Conqueror,  and 
succeeded  his  father  in  the  dukedom.  He  was  unlike  the  rest  of  the 
Conqueror's  sons, — an  easy,  generous,  pleasure-loving  fellow;  honest 
in  heart,  and  believing  with  wonderful  simplicity  that  the  world  was  all 
sunshine,  and  that  all  the  people  in  it  were  much  like  himself. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,  however,  that  he  once  rebelled  against  his  father, 
whom  he  asked  to  give  him  the  old  Norman  kingdom.  '  I  am  not  apt 
to  undress  before  I  go  to  bed,'  said  the  Conqueror. 

"  He  began  to  rule  independently,  and  William  besieged  him  in  the 
old  fortress  of  Gerberoi. 

"  In  the  midst  of  the  battle,  Robert  unseated  a  tall  knight,  and  was 
about  to  despatch  him,  when  he  found  him  to  be  his  father. 

"  He  was  greatly  touched  at  the  discovery,  and  kneeling  down  said, 
'  I  pray  you  forgive  me.'  He  then  raised  his  father,  and  they  were 
reconciled. 

'  There  is  a  castle  in  Normandy,  which  we  hope  to  visit,  —  a  mountain 
of  towers  rising  out  of  the  sea.  Pagan  priests  possessed  it,  holy  hermits 
succeeded  them,  and  the  Norman  Dukes  regarded  it  as  their  stronghold. 


WILLIAM   THE   CONQUEROR   REVIEWING    HIS   ARMY. 


FIRST  MEETING   OF  THE   CLUB. 


37 


I  have  brought  with  me  a  picture  of  it,  that  you  may  see.  It  is  a  fortress 
built  upon  a  rock ;  and,  when  the  great  tide  sweeps  in,  it  stands  in  the 
sea,  lofty  and  doubly  guarded. 

"  The  Red  King  and  Robert  once  were  engaged  in  a  war  with  their 
brother  Henry,  who  shut  himself  up  in  this  fortress.  At  last,  the  water 
in  the  fortress  failed.  The  Red  King  was  happy,  but  Robert  began  to 
pity  his  famishing  brother.  So  he  sent  him  some  bottles  of  wine. 

"  'A  fine  way  to  wage  war,'  said  the  Red  King. 

"  '  What,'  said  Robert, '  shall  we  let  our  brother  die  of  thirst  ?  Where 
shall  we  get  another,  when  he  is  gone  ?  ' 


38         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"We  will  see  how  Henry  returned  this  love  and  brotherly  kindness. 

"  It  was  considered  very  pious,  in  those  rude  times,  for  a  person  to 
make  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem,  in  order  to  visit  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 
The  Turks,  who  held  the  Holy  City,  abused  the  Christian  pilgrims. 
An  eloquent  and  a  fiery-minded  monk,  called  Peter  the  Hermit,  believing 
it  to  be  the  duty  of  the  Christian  princes  to  wrest  the  Holy  Sepulchre 
from  the  power  of  the  Turks,  began  to  urge  his  opinions  throughout 
Europe.  An  intense  excitement  was  created. 

"  Among  his  most  fervent  disciples  was  Robert  of  Normandy.  In 
his  enthusiasm,  the  thoughtless,  generous-hearted  fellow  sold  his 
dominions  for  a  certain  period  to  the  Red  King,  and  with  the  money 
equipped  a  splendid  retinue  of  knights  and  soldiers  for  service  in  the 
Holy  Land. 

"  He  went  to  Jerusalem  at  the  head  of  this  glittering  train,  and,  in 
union  with  other  Christian  princes  and  nobles,  besieged  the  Holy  City, 
subdued  its  defenders,  and  obtained  possession  of  the  Saviour's  tomb. 

"  Robert  was  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  leaders  in  the  first 
crusade ;  and,  of  all  the  princes  who  aided  in  the  recovery  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  he  sacrificed  the  most. 

"  When  he  returned  from  the  East,  he  stopped  in  Italy.  He  was 
fond  of  minstrelsy,  and  of  works  of  art;  and  he  feasted  his  eyes  on 
the  fading  grandeur  of  the  old  Italian  cities.  As  he  was  the  rightful 
claimant  to  the  throne  of  England,  after  the  death  of  the  Red  King, 
and  as  his  exploits  in  the  Holy  Land  had  added  to  his  fame,  the  Italians 
greatly  admired  him. 

"  While  stopping  in  Italy  among  the  minstrels,  the  pictures,  and  the 
loveliness  of  that  dreamy  and  enchanted  land,  he  fell  in  love  with  a  lady 
of  marvellous  beauty. 

"  Her  name  was  Sibylla.  He  married  her,  and  in  a  little  time 
returned  to  Normandy,  to  find  that  his  younger  brother,  Henry,  had 
assumed  the  throne  of  England,  and  was  governing  with  a  high  hand. 

"  It  seems  that  the  Red  King  had  died  while  Robert  was  tarrying  in 


FIRST  MEETING   OF  THE   CLUB.  39 

Italy,  enamoured  of  Sibylla ;  and  Henry,  without  waiting  to  see  him 
buried,  had  seized  the  royal  treasure  and  the  diadem,  telling  the  nobles 
that  Robert  had  become  King  of  Jerusalem. 

"  Having  established  his  government,  he  was  prepared  to  give 
Robert  a  hot  reception,  if  he  should  make  any  trouble  about  the  matter 
on  his  return. 

"  Robert,  of  course,  asserted  his  claim  to  the  throne.  Some  of  the 
nobles  sustained  Henry  in  his  usurpation,  others  were  for  Robert. 

"  Henry,  however,  by  dint  of  much  fawning  and  lying,  persuaded 
Robert  to  relinquish  his  claim  to  England,  and  to  be  content  with  the 
little  duchy  of  Normandy,  and  with  a  pension,  which  he  promised  to 
pay. 

"  So  the  good-natured  Robert  governed  in  Normandy,  and  a  good- 
natured  government  he  had.  He  was  so  weak  and  good-natured  that 
he  used  to  allow  his  servants  to  steal  his  clothes,  while  he  was  lying  in 
bed  in  the  morning. 

"  Henry,  like  the  Red  King  before  him,  thought  that  Robert's 
government  was  rather  loose,  and  that  it  would  be  a  very  benevolent 
thing  to  relieve  the  Normans  of  his  misrule.  For  this  reason,  he  went 
over  to  Normandy  with  an  army,  took  possession  of  the  country,  and 
established  his  own  hard  rule,  thus  stealing  from  his  brother  the  fair- 
skied  duchy  that  the  Conqueror  had  given  him.  Having  accomplished 
this,  he  settled  it  that  Robert  was  a  very  troublesome  fellow,  and  that 
the  proper  place  for  him  was  a  prison  ;  and  he  accordingly  put  him  in 
one. 

"  He  was  not  satisfied  even  then. 

"  One  day  there  appeared  in  the  apartments  of  the  castle  where 
Robert  was  confined  some  stone-hearted  men,  by  order  from  the  king. 
They  heated  a  piece  of  metal  red-hot,  and  then  deliberately  burned  out 
poor  Robert's  eyes. 

"  Beautiful,  loving  eyes  they  were  ;  and  what  sights  they  had  seen,  — 
the  minarets  of  the  East  glimmering  in  the  hot  sun  and  shady  moon, 


40         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS:   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

the  cool  palm-groves  along  the  Jordan,  the  splendid  streets  of  Antioch, 
the  City  of  the  Great  King,  the  Holy  Sepulchre  with  its  golden  lamps, 
Italy  with  its  deep  skies  and  empurpled  hills!  Twenty-eight  years  was 
poor  Robert  imprisoned,  and  then  he  died." 

Frank's  contribution  was  well  received. 

"  I  would  like  to  add  something  to  the  touching  narrative  we  have 
just  heard,"  said  Master  Lewis.  "  I  would  like  to  tell  you  about  the 
great  sorrow  that  came  to  King  Henry,  after  he  had  so  wronged  his 
brother.  Allow  me  to  relate  to  you 

THE   STORY  OF    THE  WHITE   SHIP. 

"Henry  had  a  son — Prince  Henry  —  whom  he  intensely  loved. 
The  prince  was  wild  and  dissipated,  and  as  much  a  despot  at  heart  as 
his  father.  He  once  boasted  that,  when  he  became  king,  he  would  yoke 
the  English  to  the  plough,  like  oxen. 

"  The  king's  plottings,  and  much  of  his  cruel  treatment  of  his  brother 
Robert,  sprang  from  his  strong  desire  that  this  son  might  succeed  him 
on  the  throne. 

"  Did  Prince  Henry  succeed  his  father  as  king  ? 

"  The  people  of  Normandy  and  other  French  territories  under  the 
Norman  crown  rebelled  against  Henry.  The  king,  by  the  aid  of  the 
Pope,  pacified  the  discontented  people  by  fair  promises,  and  a  peace 
was  made,  upon  which  the  king  and  the  prince  and  a  great  retinue  of 
nobles  went  to  Normandy,  to  arrange  some  very  important  matters  of 
state. 

"  During  this  state  visit,  the  Norman  nobles  were  induced  to  recog- 
nize, with  great  pomp,  Prince  Henry  as  the  successor  to  the  king ; 
and  a  marriage  was  contracted  for  the  prince. 

"In  honor  of  these  events,  there  were  gala-days  and  festivals,  and  at 
every  scene  of  rejoicing  the  prince  was  the  glittering  star. 


FIRST  MEETING   OF  THE   CLUB.  41 

"  The  heart  of  the  king  swelled  with  pride.  He  had  reason  to  hope 
that  all  his  plottings,  and  pilferings  of  crowns  and  dominions,  were 
about  to  end  happily.  The  future  seemed  almost  without  a  cloud. 

"  One  bright  day  in  autumn,  after  these  events,  the  prince  and  a  gay 
party  prepared  to  embark  for  England. 

"  There  came  to  the  king  a  man  by  the  name  of  Fitz-Stephen,  who 
said  that  he  was  the  son  of  the  sea-captain  who  conveyed  the  Conqueror 
to  England  on  the  ship  with  many-colored  sails.  He  said,  also,  that 
he  had  a  beautiful  ship,  all  white,  and  manned  by  fifty  sea-browned 
sailors,  and  that  he  would  deem  it  a  great  honor  to  take  the  royal  party 
to  England. 

" '  I  have  ordered  my  ship,'  said  the  king,  after  a  little  deliberation ; 
4  but  yours  shall  have  the  honor  of  conveying  the  prince  and  young 
nobles  to  England.' 

"  So  the  prince,  and  one  hundred  and  twenty-two  nobles,  and  eighteen 
ladies  of  rank,  all  young,  and  full  of  merry  life,  went  on  board  of  the 
White  Ship. 

"  The  king  sailed  away  while  it  was  yet  day,  leaving  the  prince  and 
his  company  still  in  the  harbor. 

" '  Now,'  said  the  prince,  '  the  king  has  gone,  we  will  have  a  merry- 
making. The  time  is  ours,  and  we  can  spend  it  right  jovially  on  the 
deck  of  our  beautiful  ship.' 

"  He  then  ordered  Fitz-Stephen  to  provide  three  casks  of  wine  for 
the  fifty  sailors.  The  harbor  grew  dusky,  and  the  hunter's  moon  rose, 
shimmering  the  wide  waters.  The  wine  flowed  freely,  the  nobles 
danced,  and  the  beautiful  ladies  joined  heartily  in  the  revelries. 

"  The  great  sea  sobbed  before  and  around  them,  but  merry  music 
filled  their  ears. 

"  At  length,  they  shot  out  of  the  moonlit  harbor.  The  sailors  were 
excited  and  half-drunk.  The  royal  party  urged  them  to  row  with 
speed,  in  order  to  overtake  the  vessels  of  the  king.  Fitz-Stephen 
was  in  the  same  condition  as  his  crew,  and  steered  recklessly. 


42         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS, 

"  Soon  there  came  a  terrific  crash.  The  White  Ship  reeled  and 
reeled,  but  went  no  farther.  She  had  struck  upon  rocks,  and  the 
mirth  was  turned  to  wailing  and  woe. 

"  As  the  ship  was  sinking,  the  prince  leaped  on  board  a  boat.  As  he 
was  rowed  away,  he  heard  his  sister  calling  for  help  from  the  deck  of 
the  staggering  vessel.  Putting  back,  he  reached  the  place  just  as  the 
White  Ship  was  making  her  last  plunge.  Great  numbers  of  the 
terrified  and  desperate  young  men  leaped  on  board  of  the  boat.  It 
overturned,  and  the  prince  went  down  in  the  deep  waters. 

"  Thus  in  a  moment  were  baffled  the  purposes  of  King  Henry  for  so 
many  guilty  years  ;  and,  of  the  three  hundred  souls  that  made  merry  in 
the  moonlit  harbor  of  Balfleur,  but  one  survived  to  tell  the  dismal  tale. 

"  For  some  days  no  one  dared  to  approach  the  king  with  the  dreadful 
intelligence.  At  length,  a  little  boy  was  sent  to  him  to  break  the 
news,  who,  weeping,  knelt  at  his  feet,  and  told  him  that  the  White  Ship 
was  lost,  and  the  prince  had  perished.  The  king  fell  to  the  floor  as 
dead.  The  historians  tell  us  that  he  never  smiled  again. 

"  I  do  not  greatly  pity  him ;  for  he  lied  again,  and  he  stole  again, 
and  he  made  the  people  suffer  again,  and  I  have  little  doubt  that  he 
smiled  again,  when  some  plot  of  his  crafty  old  age  had  ended  to  his 
liking. 

"  Mrs.  Hemans,  in  a  short  historical  poem,  tenderly  touches  on  the 
sorrow  of  King  fienry  for  the  lost  prince ;  and,  as  I  have  not  alluded 
to  that  sorrow  in  a  very  charitable  spirit,  I  will  quote  the  stanzas :  — 

HE    NEVER   SMILED   AGAIN. 

"  The  bark  that  held  a  prince  went  down, 

The  sweeping  waves  roll'd  on  ; 
And  what  was  England's  glorious  crown 

To  him  that  wept  a  son  ? 
He  lived,  —  for  life  may  long  be  borne 

Ere  sorrow  break  its  chain  ; 
Why  comes  not  death  for  those  whb  mourn  ?  — 

He  never  smiled  asrain  ! 


FIRST  MEETING   OF  THE   CLUB.  44 

There  stood  proud  forms  around  his  throne, 

The  stately  and  the  brave  ; 
But  which  could  fill  the  place  of  one, 

That  one  beneath  the  wave  ? 
Before  him  pass'd  the  young  and  fair, 

In  pleasure's  reckless  train  ; 
But  seas  dash'd  o'er  his  son's  bright  hair  — 

He  never  smiled  again  ! 

He  sat  where  festal  bowls  went  round, 

He  heard  the  minstrel  sing, 
He  saw  the  tourney's  victor  crown'd, 

Amidst  the  knightly  ring  : 
A  murmur  of  the  restless  deep 

Was  blent  with  every  strain, 
A  voice  of  winds  that  would  not  sleep  — 

He  never  smiled  again. 

Hearts,  in  that  time,  closed  o'er  the  trace 

Of  vows  once  fondly  pour'd, 
And  strangers  took  the  kinsman's  place 

At  many  a  joyous  board  ; 
Graves,  which  true  love  had  bathed  with  tears. 

Were  left  to  heaven's  bright  rain, 
Fresh  hopes  were  born  for  other  years  — 

He  never  smiled  again  !  " 


TOMMY  TOBY'S   STORY   OF    THE   FROLICSOME   DUKE. 

Tom  Toby's  turn  came  next,  and  at  the  announcement  of  his  name 
there  was  a  sudden  lighting  up  of  faces.  Tom's  face,  which  was  usually 
rather  comical,  assumed  a  more  mirth-loving  expression  than  ever. 

"  You  said,"  he  began,  "  that  we  were  to  visit  Ghent  and  Bruges. 
I  believe  these  towns  were  in  old  Flanders,  and  that  Flanders  was  in 
Burgundy.  One  of  the  most  clever  rulers  of  whom  I  ever  read  was 
Philip  the  Good,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  though  he  had  some  faults  when 
he  used  to  be  young  like  me. 

"  The  good  Duke  married  Eleonora,  sister  to  the  King  of  Portugal. 
The  wedding  was  celebrated  in  great  pomp  at  Bruges,  and  the  merry- 
makings lasted  a  week. 


44         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  Christopher  Sly  was  a  tinker,  and  a  tinker  was  a  man  who  used  to 
*  roam  the  countries  around,'  crying,  '  Old  brass  to  mend ! '  and  who 
repaired  the  good  people's  broken  pots  and  kettles. 

"  Christopher  heard  of  the  great  wedding  in  his  travels,  and  came  to 
Bruges  to  enjoy  the  merry-making  with  the  rest. 

"He  had  only  one  pair  of  breeches,  and  they  were  made  of  leather. 
He  deemed  them  suitable  for  all  occasions.  He  had  never  arrived  at 
the  luxury  of  a  coat,  but  in  its  place  he  wore  a  large  leather  apron, 
which  covered  his  great  shoulders,  like  the  armor  of  a  knight. 

"  Christopher  had  one  bad  habit.  He  loved  ale  overmuch,  and  he 
used  to  drink  so  deeply  on  festive  occasions  as  to  affect  the  steadiness 
both  of  his  mind  and  body. 

"  Christopher  enjoyed  the  gala-days.  He  mingled  in  the  gay 
processions  that  followed  the  ducal  pair  to  the  tournament ;  he  gazed 
with  loyal  pride  on  the  horses  with  their  trappings  of  crimson  and  gold ; 
he  followed  the  falconers  to  the  hunting-parks,  and  listened  to  the  music 
that  led  the  dance  at  night  in  the  torch-lit  palace. 

"  The  ducal  wedding  took  place  in  the  deep  of  winter ;  and  one  night, 
soon  after  the  joyful  event,  and  while  Bruges  was  yet  given  up  to 
festivities,  there  fell  a  great  snow-storm,  blocking  the  streets  and  silencing 
the  town. 

"  Christopher's  money  was  gone,  and  the  falling  weather  chilled  not 
only  his  blood,  but  his  spirits.  He  wandered  about  in  the  storm,  going 
from  ale-house  to  ale-house,  and  receiving  hospitality,  until  the  town  of 
Bruges  seemed  to  revolve  around  him  as  its  inhabitants  around  the 
Duke.  Still  he  plodded  away  through  the  streets,  longing  to  see  the 
warm  fires  glow  and  the  torches  gleam  in  the  ducal  palace.  When  he 
had  nearly  reached  the  palace,  the  town  began  to  spin  and  whirl  around 
him  at  such  a  rate  that  presently  he  sank  in  the  chilly  snow  and  knew 
no  more. 

" '  I  am  tired  of  the  palace,'  said  the  Duke  to  some  courtiers.  '  Let 
us  go  into  the  streets  this  blustering  night:  it  may  be  that  we  shall 
meet  with  an  adventure.' 


FIRST  MEETING   OF  THE   CLUB.  45 

"  The  Duke,  with  a  few  muffled  followers,  glided  out  of  one  of  the 
palace  gates,  and  the  gleamings  of  their  lanterns  shot  down  the  street. 
Presently  the  Duke  stumbled  over  some  object,  lying  half-buried  in 
the  snow. 

"  '  What 's  here  ? ' 

"  '  A  dead  man,'  answered  a  courtier. 

" '  A  drunken  tinker,'  answered  an  attendant,  turning  over  the  body 
of  a  man  lying  like  a  log  in  the  snow.  '  How  he  snores  !  Dead  drunk, 
as  I  live  ! ' 

" '  He  would  perish  here  before  morning,'  said  the  Duke. 

"  '  What  is  to  be  done  ? '  asked  a  courtier. 

"  '  Take  him  to  the  palace,  and  we  will  have  some  sport  with  him. 
I  will  cause  him  to  be  washed  and  dressed  and  perfumed,  and  to  be 
laid,  in  a  chamber  of  state.  He  will  awake  sober  in  the  morning,  when 
we  will  persuade  him  that  he  is  the  Duke,  and  that  we  are  his  attendants. 
To-morrow  the  whole  Court  of  Burgundy  shall  serve  a  poor  tinker! ' 

"The  attendants  carried  the  unconscious  tinker  to  the  palace,  where 
they  washed  him,  and,  putting  upon  him  an  elegant  night-dress,  laid 
him  on  a  silk-curtained  bed,  in  a  very  gorgeous  chamber. 

"  The  poor  tinker,  on  waking  in  the  morning,  looked  about  the 
room  in  wonder.  He  concluded  that  he  must  be  dreaming,  or  that  he 
had  become  touched  in  mind,  or  that  he  had  died  the  night  before  and 
had  been  so  happy  as  to  get  to  heaven. 

"  At  last,  the  Duke  entered  the  apartment  in  the  habit  of  the  ducal 
chamberlain. 

"'  What  will  your  Worship  have  this  morning?'  asked  the  Duke. 

"  The  tinker  stared. 

"  '  Has  your  Worship  no  commands  ? ' 

"  '  I  am  Christopher  Sly,  —  Sly,  the  tinker.  Call  me  not  '  your 
Worship.' 

" '  You  have  not  fully  recovered  yet,  I  see.  But  you  will  be  yourself 
again  soon.  What  suit  will  your  Worship  wear  to-day  ?  Which 
doublet,  and  what  stockings  and  shoes  ? ' 


46         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


AMAZEMENT  OF  CHRISTOPHER   SLY. 


" '  I  have  no  "  more  doublets  than  backs,  no  more  stockings  than 
legs,  nor  more  shoes  than  feet ;  nay,  sometime,  more  feet  than  shoes.* 
I  tell  you  I  am  Christopher  Sly,  and  I  am  a  tinker/  was  the  puzzled 
reply. 

"  But  the  ducal  chamberlain  only  bowed  the  more. 


FIRST  MEETING   OF  THE   CLUB. 


47 


"  Sly  continued  to  look  about  him  in  amazement.  At  last,  he  said, 
with  much  hesitation,  — 

" '  You  may  bring  me  my  best  suit.  The  day  is  pleasant  I  will 
dress  becomingly.' 

"  '  Now  you  are  yourself  again.  I  must  hasten  to  inform  the  Court 
of  your  recovery.  I  must  fly  to  her  Grace  the  Duchess,  and  say,  "  The 
Duke,  the  Duke  is  himself  again  !" 

"  '  The  Duke  !  I  tell  you  I  am  Christopher  Sly,  —  old  Sly's  son,  of 
Burton  Heath,  —  by  birth  a  peddler  and  by  trade  a  tinker.  Duke  Sly  ! 
No.  Duke  Christopher!  or,  better,  Duke  Christophero !  Marry, 
friend !  wouldn't  that  sound  well  ?  It  may  be  I  am  a  duke,  for  all. 
Go  ask  Marian  Hacket,  the  buxom  inn-keeper  of  Wincot,  if  she  don't 
know  Christopher  Sly,  —  Duke  Christophero ;  and  if  she  say  I  do  not 
owe  her  fourteen  pence  for  small  ale,  then  call  me  the  biggest  liar  and 
knave  in  Christendom  ! ' 

"  The  servants  presently  brought  the  poor  tinker  a  silver  basin,  '  full 
of  rose-water,  and  bestrewed  with  flowers.'  Then  they  brought  him  a 
suit  of  crimson,  trimmed  with  lace  and  starred.  The  bewildered  fellow 
stared  awhile  in  silence  ;  then  he  slowly  put  on  the  gorgeous  apparel. 

"  The  tinker  next  was  conducted  to  a  magnificent  banqueting- 
hall,  where  was  spread  a  rich  feast.  The  tables  smoked  with  venison 
and  sparkled  with  wine.  He  was  led  to  a  high  seat  beneath  a 
canopy  of  silk  and  gold,  the  Duchess  following,  and  seating  herself  by 
his  side.  Knights  and  ladies  filled  the  tables,  and  the  tinker  began  to 
feast  and  to  sip  wine  like  a  duke  indeed. 

"  '  I  wish  '  —  said  he,  suddenly. 

"  '  What  is  your  wish? '  asked  the  Duchess. 

"  '  I  wish  that  old  Stephen  Sly  was  here,  and  John  Naps  and  Peter 
Turf,  and  my  wife  Joan,  and  Marian  Hacket :  wouldn't  it  be  jolly  ? ' 

"  Christopher  had  never  smacked  his  lips  over  such  wine  before, 
and  he  drank  so  deeply  that  his  ideas  became  mixed  again.  The  feast 
ended.  The  ladies  sung  and  the  musicians  played,  but  Christopher 


48          ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OK,   VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

continued  drinking  as  long  as  he  could  hold  a  beaker.  He  began  to  be 
sleepy,  and  presently  tumbled  from  his  high  seat  beneath  the  silken 
canopy  to  the  floor, 

*  Where  he  sleeping  did  snore, 
Being  seven  times  drunker  than  ever  before.' 

"  And  here  the  reign  of  Duke  Christophero  came  to  a  sudden  end. 
The  real  Duke  ordered  the  attendants  to  take  him  away,  and  to  put 
upon  him  his  '  old  leather  garments  again.' 

"  •  When  the  night  is  well  advanced,'  said  the  Duke,  '  take  him  back 
to  the  place  where  we  found  him,  and  there  watch  his  behavior  when 
he  awakes.' 

"  Poor  Christopher  Sly  woke  in  the  morning  to  find  his  glory  gone. 
The  sun  shone  on  the  snow-covered  gables  of  Bruges.  He  looked 
around  him  with  woe  in  his  face,  as  he  saw  the  snow  beneath  him 
instead  of  a  couch  of  down,  and  the  sky  above  him,  instead  of  a  silken 
canopy,  sprinkled  with  gold.  He  snuffed  the  frosty  air,  and,  heaving 
a  deep  groan,  he  said,  'And  I  am  old  Stephen  Sly's  son,  after  all. 
I  have  seen  a  vision.  I  will  go  home,  and  take  my  scolding  from 
Joan.'" 

"  When  we  visit  Bruges,"  added  Tommy,  "  I  hope  we  may  all  visit 
the  resting-place  of  Duke  Christopher  Sly." 

Tommy's  story,  although  not  of  great  value  to  the  young  travellers, 
was  loudly  applauded  by  the  Club. 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  Wyllys,  "  that  there  is  a  spire  in  Bruges  four 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  high,  and  a  tower  that  contains  forty-eight  bells ; 
but  I  never  heard  before  of  Duke  Christopher." 

Ernest  Wynn,  who  spoke  French  well  and  took  a  lively  interest  in 
French  poetry,  sang  a  Norman  seaside  song,  which  is  a  favorite  in 
some  of  the  coast  towns,  and  is  especially  employed  by  the  fishermen  of 
Etretat,  when  a  ship  goes  out  to  sea  in  a  storm.  It  began  — 


FIRST  MEETING   OF  THE   CLUB. 


49 


Le  matin,  quand  je  me  reveille, 
Je  vois  mon  Je'sus  venir, 
II  est  beau  a  merveille, 
C'est  lui  qui  me  reveille. 
Cest  Je'sus  ! 
C'est  Je'sus  ! 
Mon  aimable  Je'sus  ! 

Je  le  vois,  mon  Je'sus,  je  le  vois 
Porter  sa  brillante  croix, 
La  haut  sur  cette  montagne  : 
Sa  mere  1'accompagne. 

C'est  Je'sus, 

C'est  Jesus, 
Mon  aimable  Je'sus. 


In  the  morn,  when  I  awake, 

My  Jesus  near  I  see. 
He  is  wonderfully  beautiful  — 
It  is  He  that  wakens  me. 
It  is  Jesus, 
It  is  Jesus, 
My  lovable  Jesus ! 

I  see,  I  see  my  Jesus 

Bear  over  the  mountain  high 
His  cross  of  light,  accompanied 
The  Holy  Mother  by. 
It  is  Jesus, 
It  is  Jesus, 
My  lovable  Jesus  ! 


The  selection  was  a  rare  one,  and  was  mentioned  by  Master  Lewis 
as  being  exceptionally  creditable. 

George  Howe  and  Leander  Towle  presented  acceptable  exercises 
on  "  Norman  Industries  "  and  "  Peasant  Customs."  The  last  topic 
seemed  to  excite  Tommy  Toby  to  try  to  throw  some  farther  light  on 
this  romantic  and  interesting  country. 

"  Would  you  like  to  know  what  lovely-looking  creatures  these 
Norman  peasant  girls  are,  and  how  they  look  ?  "  said  he.  "  Well,  they 
look  [going  to  the  blackboard  and  drawing  with  a  crayon  a  moment] 
just  like  those.  " 


50         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  I  am  very  gratified,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  at  the  amount  of  historic 
study  our  proposed  tour  has  already  stimulated.  One  must  read  and 
study  to  see.  Dr.  Johnson  used  the  comparison  that  'some  people 
would  see  more  in  a  single  ride  in  a  Hempstead  stage-coach  than  others 
would  in  a  tour  round  the  world.'  Thoreau  said,  — 

'  If  with  fancy  unfurled 

You  leave  your  abode, 
You  may  go  round  the  world 
By  the  old  Marlboro'  road.' 

"You  might  have  added  many  charming  stories  to  those  already 
told.  In  Calais,  the  last  town  of  the  Gallic  dominions  of  the  Plan- 
tagenets,  we  shall  visit  the  scene  of  the  siege  of  Edward  III.  and  of  the 
immortal  Five  who  offered  their  lives  as  a  ransom  for  their  city,  and 
whom  good  Queen  Philippa  spared.  At  Falaise,  we  may  see  the  ruin 
of  the  castle  from  whose  window  Duke  Robert,  the  father  of  the  Con- 
queror, first  saw  Arietta,  the  tanner's  daughter,  and.  was  enchanted  with 
her  beauty.  At  Rouen,  we  shall  stand  in  the  square  where  the  Maid 
of .  Orleans  was  burned,  and,  in  all  places,  in  contrast  with  the  dark 
romances  of  the  past,  will  appear  sunny  hills,  bowery  valleys,  and 
picturesque  streams. 

"  I  think  it  was  Victor  Hugo  who  said  that  '  Europe  was  the  finest 
nation  on  the  earth,  France  the  finest  country,  and  Normandy  the 
finest  part  of  France.'  I  do  not  ask  you  to  accept  his  opinion,  but 
Normandy  is  very  beautiful." 

Meetings  of  the  Club  were  held  every  two  weeks. 

The  boys  tried  to  learn  the  secret  which  Tommy  had  been  in- 
structed to  select.  But  he  claimed  that  he  had  been  instructed  also 
to  keep  it 

"  It  would  not  be  creditable  to  the  Club  to  tell  it  now,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

ON     THE     ATLANTIC. 

THE  STEERAGE.  — PILOT  BOATS. — TOMMY  MEETS  ROUGH  WEATHER.  —  His  LETTER  AND 
POSTSCRIPT.  —  QUEER  PASSENGERS.  —  GAMES  AND  STORY-TELLING.  —  STORY  OF  JOAN 
OF  ARC. —  SIGNALLING  AT  SEA.  —  LAND! 

N  ocean  steamer!  Though  a  speck  upon  the  waters, 
what  a  world  it  seems !  What  symmetry,  what 
strength,  what  a  triumph  of  human  skill !  What  a 
cheerful  sense  of  security  one  feels  as  one  looks  upon 
the  oak  and  the  iron,  and  hears  the  wind  whistle 
through  the  motionless  forest  of  cordage !  There 
society  in  all  its  grades  is  seen,  and  human  nature  in  all  its  phases. 

The  cool  upper  deck  of  the  steamer  was  more  inviting  to  our 
tourists  than  the  hot  streets  and  hotels  of  New  York,  and  early  in  the 
afternoon  they  met  on  the  North  River  Pier,  and  went  on  board  of  their 
ocean  home.  First,  they  examined  the  elegant  saloons,  then  their 
snug  state-rooms,  and  at  last  the  steerage  apartment,  where  George 
and  Leander  were  to  have  their  quarters. 

The  steerage  was  not  a  wholly  uninviting  apartment.  It  was  a 
plain  cabin,  amidships,  well  lighted  and  ventilated,  and  very  clean.  A 
stanch-looking  pair  of  stairs  led  down  to  it.  On  each  side  were  bunks 
in  little  rooms ;  those  on  the  right  hand  for  women,  and  on  the  left  for 
men.  These  were  lighted  and  aired  by  port-holes.  Each  passenger 
provided  his  own  bedding  and  eating  utensils. 

"  I  like  this,"  said  Tommy  Toby  to  the  steward.  "  Are  the  passen- 
gers here  more  likely  to  be  sick  than  in  the  first  cabin  ? " 

"  No,"  said  the  steward.     "  This  is  the  steadiest  part  of  the  ship." 


52         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  Then  what  is  the  difference  between  the  cabin  and  the  steerage  ? " 

"Well,  the  difference  is  in  the  folks,  and  the  furniture,  and  the  way 
you  eat  your  victuals." 

The  steerage  passengers  were  allowed  the  freedom  of  the  decks,  but* 
not  of  the  grand  saloons.     Master  Lewis  and  the  boys  seated  them- 
selves in  a  group  on  the  upper  deck,  when  they  had  well  visited  the 
different  parts  of  the  ship. 

Early  in  the  evening,  the  immense  ship  moved  slowly  and  steadily 
away  from  the  sultry  wharves  into  the  calm  sea  and  cool  air.  The 
great  city  with  its  gleaming  spires  seemed  sinking  in  the  sea,  and  the 
hills  of  Neversink  to  be  burying  themselves  in  the  shadows. 

Pilot  boats  several  times  crossed  the  track  of  the  steamer,  with  their 
numbers  conspicuously  painted  on  their  sails. 

"  Why  does  a  captain,  who  navigates  a  ship  across  the  ocean,"  asked 
Frank  of  Master  Lewis,  "  need  the  assistance  of  pilots  and  pilot-boats 
when  he  is  in  sight  of  land  ?  " 

"  It  is  because  the  harbor  is  more  dangerous  than  the  open  ocean, 
and  pilots  make  these  dangers  the  study  of  their  lives. 

-"  See  yonder  pilot-boat  skimming  with  the  grace  of  a  sea-bird  along 
the  sea.  It  has  the  stanchness  of  a  ship  built  for  the  longest  voyages. 
It  is  doubtless  made  of  the  best  oak,  is  sheathed  with  the  best  copper, 
and  may  have  cost  twenty  thousand  dollars." 

"  The  life  of  a  pilot  must  be  an  adventurous  one,"  said  Frank,  "  and 
there  must  be  also  much  pleasure  in  it." 

"  It  requires  special  education  and  hard  training  to  become  a  pilot. 
It  is  expected  that  the  candidate  for  the  position  shall  have  been  an 
apprentice  four  years,  during  which  he  shall  have  performed  all  the 
duties  of  a  common  sailor,  even  to  the  washing  of  the  decks  and  the 
tarring  of  the  rigging.  This  is  his  college  life.  If  he  is  an  apt  student, 
he  then  obtains  a  certificate  of  qualification  from  a  board  of  commis- 
sioners by  whom  he  has  been  rigidly  examined. 

"  The  pilot-boats  themselves  are  exposed  to  great  dangers  in  foggy 


ON  THE  ATLANTIC. 


53 


weather.  A  calm  comes  on,  and  they  cannot  move.  In  this  situation, 
they  are  liable  to  be  struck  by  one  of  the  great  iron  vessels  or  ocean 
steamers.  During  the  last  twenty-five  years,  some  thirty  pilot-boats 
have  been  lost  on  this  coast." 


PILOT-BOAT. 


The  night  was  beautiful,  calm,  cool,  starry.  In  the  morning,  the 
sun  rose  red  from  the  sea.  Land  had  disappeared.  The  boys  all  met 
on  the  deck,  in  fine  health  and  spirits. 

Towards  evening,  the  sea  grew  rough,  and  there  were  premonitions 
of  sea-sickness  among  the  passengers.  Tommy  Toby,  in  an  amusing 
letter  which  he  wrote  to  his  parents,  gave  a  stereoscopic  pen-picture  of 
the  condition  of  our  travellers  at  this  period  of  the  voyage.  He  after- 
wards added  a  characteristic  postscript.  We  give  Tommy's  letter  and 
postscript  entire  :  — 

MY  DEAR  PARENTS  : 

If  I  can  only  get  safely  back  to  Boston,  I  will  never  start  on  a  voyage  again. 

I  knew  it  would  be  so.     I  have  been  seasick. 

The  first  night  and  day  we  had  very  pleasant  weather  and  a  light  sea. 


54          ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

On  the  evening  of  the  second  day,  I  was  on  deck  with  the  boys. 

All  at  once  the  boat  gave  a  great  lurch.     Then  another.     Then  another. 

"  We  are  getting  into  rough  water,"  said  Master  Lewis. 

Wyllys  Wynn,  who  is  a  poet,  was  repeating  some  beautiful  rhymes,  when 
suddenly  he  grew  white  in  the  face,  and  said,  "  And  so  it  goes  on  for  several 
lines."  He  meant  the  poetry.  Then  he  began  to  wander  to  and  fro  in  search 
of  the  cabin  and  his  state-room. 

Frank  Gray  began  to  tell  a  story,  but  stopped  short,  and  said,  "  The  rest  of 
it  is  like  unto  tliat !  "  He  meant  the  rest  of  the  story.  Then  he  went  to  the 
cabin,  "  making  very  crooked  steerage,"  one  of  the  deck-hands  said. 

Ernest  Wynn  followed  him,  in  the  same  strange  gait. 

"  The  Zigzag  Club,"  said  the  deck-hand.     He  was  a  very  sarcastic  man. 

The  ship  gave  another  dreadful  lurch,  and  I  began  to  feel  very  strange. 

I  went  to  my  state-room.     I  felt  worse  on  the  way. 

The  ship  seemed  to  have  lost  all  her  steadiness. 

I  cannot  describe  the  night  that  followed.  The  ship  creaked,  and  seemed 
just  about  to  roll  over  after  every  lurch.  Sometimes  she  went  up.  I  was  so 
dizzy,  it  seemed  to  me  that  she  went  up  almost  to  the  moon.  Then  she  came 
down.  She  always  came  down.  It  seemed  to  me  she  must  be  going  down  to 
the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

In  the  morning,  the  steward  came. 

"  It  'as  been  a  'eavy  blow,  ruther." 

"  A  heavy  blow  !"  said  I.  "  Did  you  ever  know  any  thing  like  it  in  your 
life  ?  Do  you  think  we  shall  ever  see  land  again  ?  " 

"  Nothin'  alarmin',"  said  the  steward. 

A  dreadful  day  followed.  I  did  not  leave  my  room.  I  wished  I  had  never 
left  home.  I  felt  like  the  Frenchman  who  said,  "  I  would  kees  ze  land,  if  I  could 
only  see  any  land  to  kees." 

The  next  day  I  was  better,  only  there  was  a  light  feeling  in  my  head. 

I  went  up  on  deck.  The  sun  was  shining.  The  wind  blew,  but  the  air  was 
very  refreshing. 

This  is  the  fourth  day  out.  I  have  been  able  to  eat  to-day.  I  am  feeling 
very  hungry. 

I  find  that  all  the  boys  have  been  obliged  to  keep  their  rooms,  except  George 
Howe,  who  is  in  the  steerage. 

How  fearful  I  am  we  shall  have  another  night  like  that !  How  glad  I  shall 
be  to  see  land  again !  The  land  is  the  place,  after  all.  I  wish  I  were  sure  we 
would  have  good  weather,  when  we  return. 

Your  thoughtful  son,  THOMAS  TOBY. 


ON  THE  ATLANTIC. 


55 


P.  S.  Three  days  after.  I  am  well  now.  I  never  felt  so  bright  and  happy  in 
my  life.  The  steward  says  that  people  are  seldom  sick  twice  during  the  same 
voyage.  An  ocean  trip  is  just  the  thing,  after  all. 

There  were  a  few  rather  odd  characters  among  the  passengers: 
among  them  a  portly,  self-satisfied  Englishman,  returning  from  a  tour 
of  the  States,  with  an  increased  respect  for  fine  old  English  society ;  a 
glib-tongued  Frenchman,  who  was  delighted  with  "  Ze  States,  —  dee- 
lighted  !  "  and  whose  talk  was  like  a  row  of  exclamation  points;  and  a 
sentimental  Italian  fiddler,  in  very  poor  dress,  going  back  to  the 
beauties  of  Naples  and  the  dreamy  airs  and  skies  of  "  Etalee." 


Tommy  Toby  seemed  to  gravitate  towards  these  people,  when  his 
sea-sickness  was  over. 

"  I  likes  zis  American  poy,"  said  the  Frenchman.  "  Intelegent ! 
Has  ze  activitee  ;  agilitee  ;  very  great  prom-ese !  " 

"  Our  country  must  be  very  different  from  yours,"  said  Tommy,  one 
day. 

"  Veery,  veery  different  indeed  !  Wonderful  countree,  —  delightful ! 
What  grand  rivers!  what  waterfalls, —  Niag-e-ra!  what  lakes!  Room 
for  all  ze  world  !  Hospitalitee  for  all  ze  nations  !  " 

"  The  Frenchman  says  our  country  is  the  most  wonderful  in  all  the 
world,"  said  Tommy  to  the  portly  Englishman. 


56         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


The  latter  looked  very  solemn  ;  seemed  about  to  speak,  then  made  a 
long  pause  as  though  the  opinion  he  was  about  to  utter  was  a  very 
weighty  one. 

"  Poverty  to  riches,  riches  to  poverty ;  now  up,  now  down,  but  the 
animating  principle  always  the  same,  —  riches,  riches.  Wonderful 

people  !  progress !  each  one  living  to  outdo 
the  other.  To-day  an  alderman,  to-morrow 
in  the  penitentiary ;  to-day  my  Lady  of 
Lynne,  to-morrow  John  o'  the  Scales's 
wife ! " 

Tommy  had  an  idea  of  what  his  lugu- 
brious acquaintance  meant  to  say,  though 
the  latter's  wisdom  was  rather  above  his 
intellectual  stature. 

"  We  have  no  castles  in  America,"  said 
Tommy. 

"  Castles !  No ;  an  American  family 
could  not  keep  a  castle :  it  would  be  sold 
in  five  years  for  a  mill." 

Tommy's  face  was  always  very  bright 
after  talking  with  the  Frenchman,  but 
lengthened  out  during  the  interview  with 
his  English  friend.  He  usually  retired 
discomforted  from  the  latter,  to  seek  comfort  in  the  steerage  from  the 
lively  Italian's  fiddle. 

There  was  a  bright  girl  on  board,  named  Agnes,  —  the  daughter  of  a 
Boston  gentleman,  who  was  going  abroad  for  a  year.  She  was  a  social 
miss ;  witty,  yet  polite ;  speaking  to  every  one  freely,  without  being 
intrusive. 

On  the  evening  of  the  sixth  day,  nearly  all  the  passengers  were  in 
the  saloon.  Agnes  was  asked  to  sing.  She  winningly  said,  — 


ON  THE  ATLANTIC.  57 

"  I  will  do  my  best,  if  agreeable  to  all."  She  asked  to  be  excused  a 
moment,  and  presently  returned  with  a  broad-rimmed  hat  and  a  basket, 
and  wandering  carelessly  up  and  down  the  saloon  sang  "  The  Beggar 
Girl." 

"  Over  the  mountain,  and  over  the  moor, 
Hungry  and  barefoot  I  wander  forlorn. 
My  father  is  dead  and  my  mother  is  poor, 
And  she  grieves  for  the  days  that  will  never  return. 

Pity,  kind  gentlefolk, 

Friends  of  humanity, 
Keen  blows  the  blast  and  night 's  coming  on ; 

O  give  me  some  food 

For  my  mother,  for  charity ; 
Give  me  food  for  my  mother,  and  1  will  be  gone." 

Agnes  presented  her  basket  to  one  and  another  of  the  passengers, 
as  if  to  solicit  contributions  as  the  song  went  on.  All  were  pleased 
with  the  diversion,  and  it  was  proposed  to  have  some  other  amusements 
during  the  evening. 

Agnes  arranged  some  impromptu  charades :  one  on  Ingratiate  (in 
grey  she  ate) ;  another  on  Cowhiding  (cow  hiding,  in  which  she  per- 
sonated a  milk-maid  calling  "Co  boss,  co  boss!"  and  afterwards  the  same 
maid  cowhiding  a  boy  for  hiding  her  cow).  Agnes  selected  Tommy 
Toby  to  assist  her  in  this  last  amusing  tableau. 

Agnes  next  appeared  as  a  mind-reader.  Before  this  last  role,  how- 
ever, she  was  observed  having  a  confidential  chat  with  Tommy  Toby. 

"  Now,"  said  she,  "  if  any  of  you  are  interested  in  clairvoyance,  I 
shall  be  pleased  to  give  an  exhibition  of  the  science.  You  may  not 
know  I  am  a  mind-reader." 

"  She  probably  has  been  reading  Master  Toby's  mind  already,"  said 
her  father,  smilingly  looking  over  his  paper. 

"  Oh,  father  !  " 

"  If  each  of  you  will  write  a  word  on  a  slip  of  paper,  I  will  have  the 
slips  collected  and  put  on  my  forehead ;  and  I  will  take  them  from  my 


58         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

forehead  one  by  one,  but  before  I  take  each  one  down,  I  will  tell  what 
is  written  upon  it." 

All  wrote  some  word. 

"  Will  some  one  collect  the  slips  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  will,"  said  her  father. 

"  I  think  as  Thomas  Toby  is  spry,  I  shall  have  to  ask  him  to  do  me 
the  favor." 

44  How  I  wish  I  were  spry  !  "  said  her  father. 

The  slips  were  collected.  Tommy  put  them  all  on  her  forehead. 
She  put  up  her  fingers  and  held  them  there,  and  Tommy  took  a  seat 
with  his  friends. 

Agnes  seemed  in  reverie.     Then  she  said  emphatically,  — 

"  On  the  first  slip  is  written  *  Boston  ! '     Who  wrote  that  ? 

"  I,"  said  Tommy  Toby. 

"  Then  it  is  correct  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

She  took  the  slip  from  her  forehead  and  laid  it  in  her  lap,  saying  as 
she  did  so,  — 

"  It  is  not  written  very  plainly,  either." 

So  one  by  one  she  read  all  the  slips.  Each  passenger  acknowl- 
edged the  writing  of  each  announced  word,  after  it  had  been  correctly 
given  by  Agnes.  First,  the  correct  readings  awakened  wonder,  then 
positive  excitement.  The  experiment  was  repeated  at  the  request  of 
all,  with  the  same  wonderful  result. 

The  diversion  was  reproduced  on  the  following  evening,  and  even 
Master  Lewis  failed  to  see  how  the  girl  read  the  slips.  It  was  noticed, 
however,  that  Tommy  Toby  always  collected  the  slips,  and  acknowl- 
edged writing  the  first  word.  Agnes  also  examined  each  slip  closely  as 
she  took  it  down,  as  if  to  verify  the  results  of  her  very  penetrating  mind. 

The  secret  of  the  trick  was  that  Tommy  always  placed  what  he  had 
written  at  the  bottom  of  the  slips,  or  last ;  but  he  acknowledged  to  have 
written  what  was  taken  from  the  forehead  first.  This  gave  Agnes  the 


JOAN    OF    ARC 


ON  THE  ATLANTIC.  6 1 

opportunity  of  reading  each  slip  as  she  laid  it  in  her  lap,  and  of  announc- 
ing what  she  read  as  though  it  were  written  on  the  next  slip  on  her 
forehead. 

One  evening,  when  Master  Lewis  and  the  boys  were  talking  of  the 
historical  places  they  expected  to  visit,  Agnes  approached  pleasantly 
and  said,  "  I  have  a  conundrum  for  you." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Master  Lewis. 

"  What  was  Joan  of  Arc  made  of  ?  " 

The  boys  were  unable  to  guess. 

"  Suppose  you  tell  us  the  story  of  Joan  of  Arc,  Master  Lewis,"  said 
Wyllys.  "  Then,  perhaps,  we  will  be  able  to  decide." 

"  Yes,  please,"  said  Agnes.  "  I  should  be  delighted  to  hear  the 
story." 

"  As  we  expect  to  visit  Rouen,  where  the  Maid  of  Orleans  " — 

"  I  think  she  was  Maid  of "  —  said  Tommy  Toby.  "  I  will  tell  you 
after  the  story." 

Then  Master  Lewis  related  the  stoiy  of  the  unfortunate  shepherd 
girl- 

STORY   OF  JOAN   OF  ARC. 

"  Jeanne  d'  Arc,  known  in  history  as  the  Maid  of  Orleans,  was  born 
in  the  pleasant  village  of  Domremi,  near  the  borders  of  Lorraine.  Her 
parents  were  peasants,  and  Jeanne  was  their  fifth  child.  Her  education 
was  very  limited,  and  she  spent  her  early  years  as  a  shepherdess. 

"  Her  soul  was  full  of  romance  and  poetic  inspiration,  and  she  led  a 
dreamy  life  among  the  flocks. 

"  The  neighborhood  of  Domremi  abounded  in  superstitions.  Sto- 
ries of  fairies  and  demons,  beautiful  legends  of  the  Virgin,  and  the 
mediaeval  traditions  of  the  saints  were  the  themes  of  fireside  hours, 
and  Jeanne  drank  deeply  into  the  spirit  of  these  wonderful  myths. 

"  At  the  age  of  thirteen,  she  began   to  see  visions  and  to  dream 


62         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

dreams.     She  fancied  that  angel  voices  whispered  in  her  ear,  and  that 
celestial  lights  flashed  before  her  eyes. 

" '  At  the  age  of  thirteen,'  she  said,  in  her  defence  before  the  judge 
who  condemned  her  to  death,  '  I  heard  a  voice  in  my  father's  garden 
at  Domremi,  proceeding  from  the  right  on  the  side  of  the  church,  accom- 
panied with  a  great  light.  At  first  I  was  afraid,  but  presently  found 
that  it  was  the  voice  of  an  angel,  who  has  protected  me  ever  since,  who 
has  taught  me  to  conduct  myself  properly,  and  to  frequent  the  church. 
It  was  Saint  Michael.' 

"  She  continued  to  hear  strange  voices.     Her  father  said, — 

" '  Heed  them  not,  Jeanne,  it  is  but  a  fancy.' 

"  In  this  state  of  enthusiasm,  she  passed  some  five  years  among  the 
vine-clad  hills  of  Domremi,  her  heart  estranged  from  worldly  affections, 
and  seeking  for  loving  companionship  from  the  beautiful  beings  that 
filled  her  dreams. 

"  France,  at  this  period,  was  rent  asunder  by  civil  dissension  ;  the 
people  of  the  interior  acknowledging  Henry  VI.  of  England  as  their 
rightful  sovereign,  and  those  of  the  remoter  provinces,  Charles  VII.  of 
France.  The  people  of  Lorraine  adhered  to  the  cause  of  Charles,  and 
Jeanne  became  a  politician  in  girlhood,  and  aspired  to  chivalrous  deeds. 

44  When  eighteen  years  of  age,  she  fancied  that  celestial  voices  told 
her  that  she  was  called  to  deliver  her  country  from  English  rule,  and 
to  place  the  young  French  king  upon  the  throne  of  his  fathers. 

"  Her  father  said,  — 

4"  I  tell  thee,  Jeanne,  it  is  a  fancy.' 

"Leaving  her  rustic  home,  the  unlettered  girl  sought  an  audience  of 
Captain  de  Baudricourt,  who  commanded  for  Charles  at  Vaucoleurs. 
In  this  she  was  successful,  and,  although  he  at  first  treated  her  as  an 
idle  enthusiast,  he  was  finally  so  impressed  by  the  recital  of  her  inspi- 
rations and  visions,  that  he  sent  her  to  Chinon,  where  Charles  held  his 
court,  to  consult  with  the  king. 

44 '  None  in  the  world,'  she  said  to   Baudricourt,  '  can  recover  the 


JOAN    OF    ARC    RECOGNIZING    THE    KING. 


ON  THE  ATLANTIC.  65 

kingdom  of  France,  there  is  no  hope  but  in  me.'  She  added,  '  I  would 
far  rather  be  spinning  beside  my  poor  mother ;  but  I  must  do  this  work, 
because  my  Lord  wills  it.' 

" '  Who  is  your  lord  ? '  asked  the  general. 

"  '  The  Lord  God ! ' 

" '  By  my  faith,'  said  Baudricourt,  '  I  will  take  you  to  the  king.' 

"  She  obtained  an  interview  with  Charles,  whom  she  claimed  to  have 
recognized  in  a  promiscuous  company  by  a  sudden  inspiration,  accom- 
panied by  celestial  light.  The  story  of  her  divine  appointment  deeply 
moved  the  king ;  and,  his  cause  becoming  desperate,  he  accepted  the 
services  of  the  fair  prophetess,  clad  her  in  armor,  and  placed  her  at  the 
head  of  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men. 

"  There  was  something  in  her  very  appearance  that  inspired  awe. 
Her  mien  was  noble  and  commanding ;  her  form  was  tall  and 
elegant.  She  controlled  her  charger  with  wonderful  grace  and  skill. 
By  her  side  was  a  consecrated  sword,  found  buried  in  the  old  church  of 
St.  Catherine  de  Fierbois,  the  existence  of  which  she  claimed  to  have 
discovered  by  a  special  revelation  from  above ;  and  in  her  hand  she 
carried  a  banner  emblazoned  with  angels  and  consecrated  to  God. 

"  The  English  troops,  with  the  French  allies  of  Henry,  were  besieg- 
ing Orleans,  a  famous  old  city,  and  one  of  the  strongholds  of  Charles. 
Thither  Jeanne  led  her  army.  She  soon  inspired  her  soldiers  with  the 
conviction  that  she  held  a  commission  from  on  high ;  and,  when  they 
arrived  before  Orleans,  they  were  wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
enthusiasm. 

"  Jeanne  attacked  the  English,  and  in  several  engagements  displayed 
superior  generalship  and  won  brilliant  victories.  The  confidence  of  the 
French  troops  in  her  now  became  implicit,  and  they  received  her 
commands  as  from  a  messenger  of  celestial  truth. 

"  The  English  soldiers,  too,  were  infected  by  the  superstition,  and 
a  panic  ensued  whenever  she  appeared.  Jeanne  was  at  last  completely 
victorious,  and,  although  once  severely  wounded,  raised  the  siege  of 
Orleans,  and  entered  the  city  in  triumph. 


66         ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  The  French  kings  for  a  long  period  had  received  their  crowns  at 
Rheims.  The  city  was  a  great  distance  from  Orleans,  and  the  ap- 
proaches to  it  were  held  by  the  English.  Thither  mysterious  voices 
directed  Jeanne.  Charles,  yielding  to  her  influence,  set  out  on  the  long 
and  perilous  journey,  to  be  crowned  in  the  ancient  fane  where  his 
ancestors  of  the  house  of  Valois  had  received  their  diadems. 

"  The  English  troops  retired,  and  the  cause  of  Charles  received  a  new 
impetus  wherever  the  young  prophetess  and  her  army  appeared.  The 
journey  was  a  continued  triumph  for  Charles,  and  when  he  reached 
Rheims,  the  fame  of  his  success  rekindled  the  fires  of  patriotism  in 
every  town  and  province  of  France. 

" '  It  was  a  joyous  day  in  Rheims  of  old,'  when  the  glittering  retinue, 
led  by  the  young  king  and  the  peasant  child,  marched  to  the  thronged 
cathedral.  The  coronation  services  were  wonderfully  impressive  and 
inconceivably  splendid.  The  holy  unction  was  performed  with  oil  said 
to  have  been  brought  from  heaven  by  a  dove,  to  King  Clovis.  By  the 
side  of  the  young  monarch  stood  Jeanne  in  full  armor,  holding  in  her 
hand  her  consecrated  banner.  Triumphant  music  pealed  forth,  and 
the  plaudits  of  the  people  made  the  old  cathedral  *re  .  ble.  "/hen  the 
ceremony  was  over,  Jeanne  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  the  king, 
embraced  his  knees  and  wept. 

"  She  felt  now  that  her  mission  was  accomplished.  She  resolved  to 
return  to  her  home,  and  to  pass  her  days  among  the  simple  peasants  of 
Domremi. 

"  But  fame  was  too  dazzling,  and  ambition  tempted  her  to  new 
exploits.  She  was  taken  prisoner  at  last  by  her  enemies,  the  Burgun- 
dians,  was  delivered  over  to  the  English,  put  upon  trial  as  a  sorceress, 
pronounced  guilty,  and  condemned  to  death. 

"  She  wept  over  her  hard  fate.  '  I  would  rather  be  beheaded  than 
burned,'  she  said,  when  she  reflected  on  the  manner  of  her  death,  which 
was  to  be  burned  at  the  stake.  '  Oh,  that  this  body  should  be  reduced 
to  ashes ! ' 


[OAN  OF   ARC  WOUNT>ED. 


ON  THE  ATLANTIC.  69 

"  She  wept  for  her  country. 

"  '  O  Rouen,  Rouen ! '  she  said,  '  is  it  here  that  I  must  die  ?  Here 
shall  be  my  last  resting-place.' 

"  A  huge  pile  of  fuel  was  made  in  the  ancient  market  place  in 
Rouen,  and  the  Maid  of  Orleans  was  placed  upon  it ;  and  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  vast  concourse  of  citizens,  soldiers  and  ecclesiastics,  she  was 
burned.  Her  last  words  were  expressive  of  inward  triumph.  The 
lamentable  event  occurred  on  the  last  day  of  May,  1431.  Her  ashes 
were  cast  into  the  Seine,  and  carried  to  the  sea. 

"  Joan  of  Arc  was  no  wilful  impostor.  She  fully  believed  that  she 
beheld  faces  of  departed  saints,  and  heard  the  voices  of  beings  from  the 
unseen  world.  The  result  of  her  wonderful  career  was  that  Charles 
ultimately  won  back  to  the  royal  house  of  Valois  the  whole  kingdom  of 
France. 

"  An  imposing  mausoleum  in  the  city  of  Orleans  perpetuates  her 
memory;  but  her  name  stands  above  mortality,  independent  of  marble 
or  bronze.  Apart  from  her  character  as  a  visionary,  Jeanne  was  a  most 
noble  girl.  The  French  still  cherish  an  enthusiastic  attachment  for 
her  memory,  and  a  yearly  fete  is  given  in  honor  of  her  deeds  in  the 
City  of  Orleans." 

"  I  think,"  said  Tommy  Toby,  "  that  I  can  answer  Agnes's  conun- 
drum. Joan  of  Arc  was  Maid  (made)  of  Orleans." 

"  Right,"  said  Agnes.  "  What  an  agreeable  company  the  Zigzag 
Club  is ! " 

One  afternoon  the  man  on  the  lookout  called  the  attention  of  those 
around  him  to  a  distant  object :  it  seemed  like  a  mere  speck  in  the 
horizon.  He  presently  said, — 

"  It  is  a  ship." 

The  news  spread.  Every  one  came  upon  deck.  Even  the  cooks 
in  the  galley  left  their  pots  and  kettles. 

As  she  drew  near,  the  British  ensign  was  seen  fluttering  at  the 
stern.  As  she  drew  still  nearer,  she  hoisted  five  small  flags. 


70         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


Then  one  of  the  quartermasters  on  our  own  ship  brought  several 
small  flags  and  a  signal-book  from  the  wheel-house.  He  opened  the 
book  to  a  page  of  colored  pictures  of  small  flags,  five  of  which  corre- 
sponded to  those  raised  by  the  ship  in  view.  Opposite  each  flag  was  a 
figure.  The  figures  combined  in  order  made  the  number  94,362. 

The  quartermaster  turned  to  another  page,  and  opposite  this  num- 
ber appeared  the  name  and  port  of  the  ship. 

The  ship  hoisted  another  set  of  flags,  which  was  answered  by  our 
own  ship. 

"  She  asks  to  know  our  reckonings,"  said  the  quartermaster. 
Jf  ^^»  "  Can  a  ship  meeting  another  ask  other  ques- 

M  tions  in  this  way?"  inquired  George  Howe. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  two  vessels  miles  apart  can  carry 
mL  on  a  long  conversation  with  each  other.     Ships 

have  a  regular  alphabet  of  signal  flags." 

"  What  are  signals  of  distress  ? "  asked 
George. 

€> 

"  That  flag,"  said  the  quartermaster,  point- 
ing  to  a  picture  in  the  book,  "  rtieans  a  fire  or 
leak.  (.) 

"  This  means  a  want  of  food.  (2) 

"  And  that,  aground.  (3) 

"  Here  is  one  that  signifies,  *  Will  you  take  a 
letter  from  me  ? '  "  (4) 

This  dialogue  between  the  two  ships  was 
the  most  pleasing  and  exciting  episode  of  the 
voyage,  until  land  began  to  appear  as  a  dim 
streak  upon  the  horizon. 


CHAPTER   V. 


THE    LAND    OF   SCOTT   AND   BURNS. 

GLASGOW. — VISIT  TO  AYR. —  STORY  OF  HIGHLAND  MARY. — 
GLASGOW  TO  EDINBURGH.  —  SCENE  IN  EDINBURGH  AT  NIGHT. — 
THE  CASTLE.  —  MELROSE.  —  LONG  SUMMER  DAYS. 

LD  Glasgow,  almost  encircled  by  hills  and  uplands, 
presents  a  picturesque  view,  as  the  steamer  moves 
slowly  up  the  narrowing  channel  of  the  Clyde. 
But  with  its  rapid  commercial  growth,  its  2,000,000 
spindles,  its  steam-power,  and  its  busy  marts  of 
trade,  it  is  a  city  of  the  present  rather  than  the 
past,  and  beyond  the  Knox  monument  and  the 
Cathedral  presents  few  attractions  to  the  history-loving  stranger. 

Our  tourists  stopped  at  Glasgow  to  make  a  day's  excursion  to 
the  home  of  Burns.  They  were  taken  from  the  boat  to  the  Queen's 
Hotel  in  George's  Square ;  but  George  Howe  and  Leander  Towle 
after  resting  with  the  rest  of  the  party,  secured  lodgings  in  a  private 
house. 

The  boys  arose  the  next  morning,  with  dreams  of  the  Doon  and 
Ayr.  To  their  disappointment,  a  heavy  mist  hung  over  the  city ;  and 
they  found  it  a  dreary  and  disappointing  walk  to  the  South  Side 
Station,  where  they  were  to  take  the  train  for  Ayr.  The  two  hours' 
ride  on  the  train  was  as  colorless ;  they  were  whirled  through  a  novel 
and  beautiful  summer  landscape,  but  Nature  had  dropped  her  sea- 
curtain  and  sky-curtain  of  fog  and  mist  over  all. 


72          ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,   VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

When  the  party  arrived  at  Ayr,  it  was  raining.  The  boys'  faces,  too, 
were  cloudy,  and  each  one  pressed  Master  Lewis  with  the  question, 
"  What  shall  we  do  ? " 

Tommy  Toby  at  last  answered  the  rather  embarrassing  question 
with,  "  Let  us  consult  the  barometer." 


The  barometer,  too,  wore  a  cloudy  face,  and  frowned  at  them,  as 
though  it  meant  never  to  predict  fine  weather  again. 

But,  after  waiting  awhile  at  the  station,  there  were  signs  of  lifting 
clouds  and  clearing  skies.  A  weather-wise  old  Scotchman  promised 
the  party  a  fair  day,  and  bid  them  "  God  speed  "  for  the  home  of  "  Robbie 
Burns."  Presently,  the  sun  began  to  shoot  his  lances  through  the  mist, 
and  the  tourists  set  out  for  their  first  walk,  which  was  to  be  a  two-mile 
one ,  to  Burns's  cottage. 


THE  LAND    OF  SCOTT  AAD  BURNS. 


73 


BIRTHPLACE  OF    ROBERT  BURNS. 

The  cottage  was  indeed  an  humble  one.  It  was  built  by  the  father 
of  Burns,  with  his  own  hands,  before  his  marriage,  and  originally  con- 
tained two  rooms. 

In  the  interior  of  the  kitchen,  a  Scotchwoman  showed  to  the  party 

a  recess  where 

"  The  bard  peasant  first  drew  breath." 

The  simplicity  of  the  place  and  its  ennobling  associations  seemed  to 
touch  all  except  Tommy,  who  remarked  to  Frank  Gray,  — 


74         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,   VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  I  was  born  in  a  better  room  than  that  myself." 

"  But  I  fear  you  never  will  be  called  to  sing  the  songs  of  a  nation." 

"  I  fear  I  never  shall,"  said  Tommy,  meekly. 

From  the  cottage,  the  party  went  to  the  Burns  monument. 

From  the  base  of  its  columns,  the  beauties  of  Scottish  scenery  began 
to  appear. 

"  It  is  the  way  in  which  one  ends  life  that  honors  the  place  of  one's 
birth,"  said  Frank  to  Tommy. 

"  So  I  see,"  said  Tommy,  as  the  sun  came  out  and  covered  the 
beautiful  monument,  and  illuminated  the  record  of  the  poet's  fame. 

The  tourists,  under  the  direction  of  a  Scottish  farmer,  whose  ac- 
quaintance Master  Lewis  had  made,  next  proceeded  to  an  eminence 
commanding  a  view  of  the  mansion  house  of  Coilsfield,  the  romance- 
haunting  Castle  of  Montgomery. 

"  There,"  said  the  Scotchman,  "  lived  Burns's  first  sweetheart." 

"  Highland  Mary  ?  "  asked  several  voices. 

"  Yes." 

"  They  were  separated  by  death,"  said  Master  Lewis.  "  Can  you  tell 
us  the  story  ?  " 

"  As  Mary  was  expecting  soon  to  be  wedded  to  Burns,  she  went  to 
visit  her  kin  in  Argyleshire.  She  met  Burns  for  the  last  time  on  a 
Sunday  in  May.  It  was  a  lovely  day,  and  standing  one  on  the  one  side 
and  one  on  the  other  of  a  small  brook,  and  holding  a  Bible  between 
them,  they  promised  to  be  true  to  each  other  for  ever. 

"  On  the  journey,  Mary  fell  sick  and  died.  You  have  read  Burns's 
lines  '  To  Mary  in  Heaven  '  ?  " 

That  sacred  hour  can  I  forget  ? 

Can  I  forget  the  hallowed  grove, 
Where  by  the  winding  Ayr  we  met, 

To  live  one  day  of  parting  love  ? 
Eternity  will  not  efface 

Those  records  dear  of  transports  past ; 
Thy  image  at  our  last  embrace  ! 

Ah  !  little  thought  we  'twas  our  last  ! 


THE  LAND   OF  SCOTT  AND  BURNS. 


75 


"  Do  you  ever  sing  the  songs  of  Burns  ?  "  asked  Master  Lewis. 

"  Would  you  like  to  hear  me  try  '  Highland  Mary '  ?  " 

"  Do ! "  said  Ernest  Wynn,  who  was  always  affected  by  ballad 
music. 

The  Scotchman  quoted  a  line  or  two  of  the  poem,  changing  from 
the  English  to  the  Scottish  accent.  The  boys  were  charmed  with  the 
words,  and  sat  down  on  the  grass  to  listen  to 

HIGHLAND   MARY. 

Ye  banks  and  braes  and  streams  around 

The  castle  o'  Montgomery, 
Green  be  your  woods,  and  fair  your  flowers, 

Your  waters  never  drumlie  ! 
There  simmer  first  unfauld  her  robes, 

And  there  the  langest  tarry  ; 
For  there  I  took  the  last  fareweel 

O'  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 

How  sweetly  bloomed  the  gay  green  birk, 

How  rich  the  hawthorn's  blossom, 
As  underneath  their  fragrant  shade 

I  clasped  her  to  my  bosom  ! 
The  golden  hours,  on  angel  wings, 

Flew  o'er  me  and  my  dearie  ; 
For  dear  to  me  as  light  and  life 

Was  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 

Wi'  monie  a  vow,  and  locked  embrace, 

Our  parting  was  fu'  tender  ; 
And,  pledging  aft  to  meet  again, 

We  tore  oursels  asunder  : 
But,  oh  !  fell  death's  untimely  frost 

That  nipt  my  flower  sae  early  ! 
Now  green  's  the  sod,  and  cauld  's  the  clay, 

That  wraps  my  Highland  Mary  ! 

Oh,  pale,  pale  now,  those  rosy  lips, 

I  aft  hae  kissed  sae  fondly  ! 
And  closed  for  aye  the  sparkling  glance 

That  dwelt  on  me  sae  kindly  ! 
And  mould'ring  now  in  silent  dust 

That  heart  that  lo'ed  me  dearly  ! 
But  still  within  my  bosom's  core 

Shall  live  my  Highland  Mary. 


76         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

The  "  banks  and  braes  and  streams  around  "  gleamed  like  a  vision 
of  enchantment  in  the  full  noon  sunlight.  Never  had  the  boys  listened 
to  a  song  amid  such  highly  romantic  associations. 

Bidding  the  entertaining  Scotchman  farewell,  the  party  returned 
to  Ayr,  and  thence  to  Glasgow,  where  it  arrived  in  the  lingering 
sunlight  of  the  long  afternoon. 

The  next  morning  it  left  by  rail  for  Edinburgh,  that  city  of  high 
houses  and  terraced  hills  ;  of  grandly  picturesque  beauty ;  of  the  times 
of  Bruce,  and  the  bright  and  dark  days  of  the  Stuarts ;  where  one 
is  surrounded  by  the  relics  of  a  thousand  years,  and  stands  under 
the  protecting  shadow  of  a  castle  that  seems  lifted  into  the  regions 
of  air. 

The  party  took  rooms  on  Prince's  Street,  a  thoroughfare  one  hun- 
dred feet  wide  and  a  mile  in  length,  graced  with  noble  monuments  of 
art  and  bowery  pleasure-grounds.  It  is  considered  one  of  the  most 
picturesque  streets  in  the  world. 

Around  you  are  shops  with  splendid  windows,  statues,  public  gar- 
dens, birds,  and  flowers ;  above  you  are  houses  six  or  eight  stories 
high ;  above  these,  on  the  rocky  hillsides,  are  queer  old  buildings  of 
other  times ;  and  high  over  all  is  the  Castle,  cold  and  grand  on  its  rocky 
throne. 

"  I  shall  rest  to-morrow,  boys,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  and  shall  let  you 
roam  at  will.  Let  us  spend  the  evening  in  one  of  the  public  gardens." 

After  supper,  the  party  went  to  one  of  these  fragrant  street-gardens. 
The  band  of  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland's  Own,  as  a  certain  Highland 
regiment  is  called,  filled  the  quiet  air  with  delicious  music. 

The  sun  withdrew  his  light  from  the  street,  the  gardens,  and  the  tall 
houses  on  the  hills,  but  the  Castle  stood  long  in  the  mellowed  glory  of 
the  sunset. 

But  the  sun  left  even  the  Castle  at  last,  and  then  began  a  spectacle 
that  seemed  like  an  illusion  or  fairy-land. 

Lights  began  to  twinkle  in  the  streets;    then  in  the  tall  windows 


THE  LAND   OF  SCOTT  AND  BURNS. 


79 


above  them.  Now  and  then  a  whole  face  of  an  antique  pile  was 
illuminated ;  now  some  little  eyrie  that  seemed  hanging  in  air  burst 
into  flame  ;  now  a  line  of  terraces  began  to  twinkle.  The  lights  crept 
up  the  hillsides  everywhere. 

"  I  never  saw  any  thing  so  beautiful !  "  said  Ernest  Wynn. 

Every  one  talks  of  the  Castle  in  Edinburgh,  and  the  boys  paid  their 
first  visit  to  it,  and  saw  it  in  its  morning  glory.  On  the  highest  plat- 
form of  the  Castle,  three  hundred  and  eighty-three  feet  above  the  sea, 
stands  the  celebrated  old  cannon  Mons  Meg,  made  in  Mons,  in  Brit- 
tany, in  1486.  It  had  figured  in  so  many  wars  and  historic  scenes,  that 
the  Scottish  people  came  to  regard  it  as  a  national  relic.  The  site  of 
the  Castle  is  about  seven  hundred  feet  in  circumference,  and  on  three 
sides  it  seems  just  a  bare  rock,  rising  almost  perpendicularly  in  air. 

The  boys  next  visited  Arthur's  Seat,  a  high  rock  on  the  top  of  a 
hill,  in  which  there  is  a  fancied  resemblance  to  a  chair.  Queen  Victoria 


HOLYROOD    PALACE. 


8o          ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,   VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


climbed  up  to  it  on  a  re- 
cent visit  It  commands 
a  sweeping  view  of  the 
sea,  and  the  hills  that  en- 
circle the  city. 

They  next  went  to  the 
old   Palace  of  Holyrood, 
and  were  shown  the  apart- 
ments of  the  unfortunate 
\  Queen  of  Scots. 

"There,"  said  the  tall 
Scotchman  who  attended 
them  about  the  place,  "  is 
the  room  where  Rizzio 
was  murdered,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Mary." 

They  were  told  that  a 
certain  stain  in  the  floor 
was  the  blood  of  the  hap- 
•  less  man. 

"  We  must  ask   Master   Lewis  to  tell   us  the  whole    story,"  said 
Wyllys. 

They  next  visited  St.  Giles,  the  scene  of  the  preaching  of  Knox,  the 
Martyrs'  Monument,  and  Knox's  grave. 

"  We  must  have  an  evening  meeting  of  the  Club  in  Edinburgh," 
said  Wyllys  Wynn,  when  the  party  with  Master  Lewis  were  at  tea. 
"  To-night  ?  "  asked  Frank. 

"  I  would  wait  until  after  we  have  been  to  Abbotsford,"  said  Master 

Lewis.     "  Then  I  would  have  a  meeting  in  the  parlor,  and  let  each  one 

tell  some  story  associated  with  the  most  interesting  object  he  has  seen." 

The  next  day  Master  Lewis  and  the  tourists,  except  George  and 

Leander,  who  preferred  remaining  in  the  city,  took  the  train  for  Mel- 


:S7 


MART   STUART. 


MURDER    OF    RIZZIO. 


THE  LAND   OF  SCOTT  AND  BURNS.  83 

rose,  stopped  at  Melrose  Station,  and  rode  to  Abbotsford,  the  reputed 
haunt  of  Thomas  the  Rhymer,  and  the  residence  of  Walter  Scott. 

They  were  met  at  the  entrance  of  the  gray  mansion  by  a  tall 
Scotchman,  and  were  taken  from  the  magnificent  entrance  hall,  about 
forty  feet  in  length,  to  the  dining-room,  which  has  a  wonderful  black- 
oak  roof,  and  is  the  place  where  Sir  Walter  died.  Gazing  from  the 
window  on  the  beautiful  landscape  for  the  last  time,  he  said  to  Lock- 
hart,  "  Bring  me  a  book."  "  What  book  ?  "  "  There  is  but  one  book." 

They  were  next  shown  the  library,  a  repository  of  some  twenty 
thousand  books  and  of  presents  from  most  eminent  persons,  among 
them  a  silver  urn  from  Lord  Byron  and  two  arm-chairs  from  the  Pope. 

Our  tourists  next  visited  the  ruin  of  Melrose  Abbey,  and  found  it 
less  interesting  than  its  historic  associations.  Late  evening  found  them 
again  in  Edinburgh. 

"What  time  of  the  evening  do  you  think  it  is?"  asked  Master 
Lewis  of  the  boys  as  they  entered  the  hotel. 

"  Seven  o'clock,"  said  Tommy  Toby. 

"  After  nine  o'clock,"  said  Master  Lewis. 

The  Castle  still  stood  in  the  damask  light  of  the  twilight,  like  a 
dark  picture  on  an  illuminated  curtain. 

"  The  summer  days  in  these  Northern  regions  are  as  long  as  they 
are  beautiful,"  said  Master  Lewis. 


CHAPTER   VI. 


STORY   TELLING    IN    EDINBURGH. 

STORY  OF  QUEEN  MARY  AND  RIZZIO.  —  STORY  OF  THE  BLACK  DOUGLAS.  —  STORY  OF  A 
GLASGOW  FACTORY  BOY.  —  THE  CASTLE  BY  MOONLIGHT. 

|HE  following  day  was  to  be  the  last  the  party  were  to 
spend  in  the  beautiful  city  of  Edinburgh.  In  the 
evening  the  class  met  as  by  appointment,  and,  at 
the  suggestion  of  Wyllys  Wynn,  Master  Lewis  was 
asked  to  conduct  the  exercises  of  the  section  of  the 
Club. 

"  I  thank  you,"  he  said,  "  for  this  kind  confidence, 
and  I  think  we  may  congratulate  ourselves  on  the 
success  of  our  journey  thus  far.  I  will  begin  our  conversation  by 
asking  Wyllys  Wynn  what  is  the  most  interesting  place  he  has  seen 
in  Scotland." 

"  The  place  that  has  most  excited  my  interest,"  said  Wyllys,  "  is 
the  room  in  the  palace  where  Rizzio  was  killed.  It  is  not  the  most 
interesting  place  I  have  seen,  of  course,  but  it  has  most  awakened 
my  curiosity. 

"  Will  you  not  tell  us  the  history  of  Rizzio  ? " 

"  To  do  so,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  would  require  some  account  of  the 
whole  of  Queen  Mary's  life.  The  romance  of  Queen  Mary's  story  will 
have  a  freshness,  after  what  you  have  now  seen.  I  will  do  the  best  I 
can  to  relate  those  incidents  which  make  up  the 


STORY  TELLING  IN  EDINBURGH.  85 


STORY   OF   QUEEN    MARY    AND    RIZZIO. 

"  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  was  perhaps  the  most  beautiful  in  person 
and  winning  in  manners  and  polite  accomplishments  of  any  modern 
queen.  She  was  the  daughter  of  James  V.  of  Scotland  and  Mary  of 
Lorraine.  Her  father  heard  of  her  birth  on  his  death-bed.  He  had 
hoped  his  heir  would  prove  a  son. 

" '  It  came  with  a  lass,  and  it  will  end  with  a  lass,'  said  he. 

"  The  crown  of  Scotland  came  with  the  daughter  of  Bruce,  and 
ended  with  unfortunate  Mary. 

"  Mary  became  queen  before  she  was  a  week  old.  Little  she  knew, 
in  her  innocent  cradle  at  Linlithgow,  of  the  crown  waiting  her  head  or 
the  kingdom  that  was  ruled  in  her  name. 

"  Her  childhood  was  like  a  fairy  story.  She  had  there  Marys  for 
playmates,  as  she  herself  was  named  Mary ;  and  each  Mary  was  the 
daughter  of  a  noble  family. 

"When  six  years  of  age  she  was  given  in  marriage  to  Francis  II., 
the  son  of  the  French  King.  The  French  fleet  carried  her  away 
from  the  rugged  shores  of  Scotland,  and  the  Scottish  Marys  went  with 
her. 

"  Ten  years  were  passed  amid  the  gayeties  and  splendors  of  the 
French  court,  and  then,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  she  was  married,  amid 
great  pomp  and  rejoicings,  to  the  Dauphin,  whose  courtly  devotion  and 
elegant  society  she  had  long  enjoyed.  The  associations  of  the  young 
pair  before  marriage  had  been  very  happy.  They  delighted  to  be  with 
each  other  even  in  society,  when  they  would  often  separate  themselves 
from  the  gay  throngs  around  them. 

"  The  next  year  found  Francis  on  the  throne,  and  Mary  seemed  to 
be  the  happiest  queen  in  the  world. 

"  But  the  following  year  the  young  king  died,  childless,  and  Mary 
was  compelled  to  return  to  Scotland. 


86         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  She  sailed  from  Calais  in  the  late  summer  of  another  changeful 
year.  She  wept  when  the  shores  of  France  faded  from  her  sight,  and 
expressed  her  regret  in  a  tender  poem,  which  you  may  have  read. 


STORY  TELLING  IN  EDINBURGH.  87 

"  Mary  was  a  Catholic.  Scotland  had  adopted  the  Reformed  Faith, 
and  the  Scots  received  her  with  coldness  and  suspicion. 

"  Mary's  life  from  childhood  to  her  imprisonment  was  a  series  of 
romances  associated  with  marriage  schemes.  Francis  had  not  been 
long  dead  before  many  of  the  courts  of  Europe  were  planning  marriage 
alliances  with  the  beautiful  Queen.  The  kings  of  France,"  Sweden, 
Denmark,  Don  Carlos  of  Spain,  the  Archduke  of  Austria,  and  many 
others  of  lesser  rank  were  named  as  suitable  candidates  for  her  hand. 

"  Her  own  choice  fell  upon  her  handsome  cousin,  Lord  Darnley, 
who  was  a  Catholic,  and  among  the  nearest  heirs  to  the  English  crown. 
He  was  a  weak,  corrupt,  ambitious  man.  But  he  had  a  winning  face, 
and  the  marriage  was  celebrated  in  Holyrood  Palace,  in  the  summer 
of  1565. 

"  One  day,  long  before  this  marriage,  as  Mary  was  coming  down  the 
stairs  of  the  Palace,  she  saw  the  graceful  form  of  a  dark  Italian 
musician  reclining  on  a  piece  of  carved  furniture  in  the  hall.  It  was 
her  first  view  of  David  Rizzio,  who  had  come  to  Scotland  in  the  train 
of  the  embassador  from  Savoy.  In  a  celebrated  picture  of  Mary,  she  is 
represented  as  starting  back  in  surprise  and  horror  at  the  sight  of  this 
adventurer,  as  though  the  moment  were  one  of  fate  and  evil  foreboding. 

"  This  fascinating  Italian  won  the  confidence  of  Mary  by  his  arts, 
and  used  his  influence  to  bring  about  the  marriage  with  Darnley.  He 
became  a  friend  of  Darnley  :  they  occupied  the  same  apartments  and 
engaged  in  the  same  political  intrigues. 

"  But,  after  the  marriage,  Rizzio  himself  drew  away  the  affections  of 
the  Queen  from  Darnley,  who  determined  to  assassinate  Rizzio. 
Several  Scottish  lords  united  with  Darnley  to  do  the  deed. 

"  One  day,  when  Mary  had  been  supping  with  Rizzio,  the  white 
face  of  Lord  Ruthven  appeared  at  the  door  of  the  room. 

"'  Let  him  come  out  of  the  room,'  he  said  to  the  Queen. 

" '  He  shall  not  leave  the  room,'  said  the  Queen ;  '  I  read  his  danger 
in  your  face.' 


88          ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  Then  Ruthven  and  his  followers  rushed  upon  Rizzio,  dragged 
him  from  the  room,  and  stabbed  him  fifty-six  times.  You  have  seen 
the  blood-stains  in  the  Palace,  where  the  wily  Italian  was  killed. 

"It  is  said  that  his  body  was  thrown  upon  the  same  chest,  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs,  where  Mary  had  seen,  him  first. 

"  Mary  knew  that  Darnley  had  caused  the  murder. 

" '  I  will  now  have  my  revenge,'  she  said,  in  the  presence  of  the 
conspirators. 

"  She  said  to  Darnley,  '  I  will  cause  you  to  have  as  sorrowful  a  heart 
as  I  have  now.' 

"  For  political  reasons  she,  however,  became  seemingly  reconciled  to 
him.  Three  months  after  the  tragedy,  James  VI.  of  Scotland  and  I. 
of  England  was  born.  You  have  seen  his  birthplace  to-day. 

"  Twelve  months  passed.  Earl  Bothwell,  a  profligate  noble,  had 
won  the  Queen's  confidence.  There  is  little  doubt  that  the  two  formed 
a  plot  to  destroy  Darnley 's  life. 

"  The  Queen  went  to  visit  Darnley  at  Glasgow,  he  having  fallen  ill. 
She  pretended  great  affection  for  him,  and  brought  him  to  Edinburgh, 
and  secured  lodgings  for  him  in  a  private  hoo.se.  She  left  him  late  one 
Sunday  evening,  to  attend  a  marriage  feast. 

"  She  remarked  to  him,  in  one  of  their  last  interviews,  — 

" '  It  was  about  this  time,  a  year  ago,  I  believe,  that  David  was 
murdered.' 

"  After  she  had  gone,  there  was  a  great  explosion,  and  Darnley's 
dead  body  was  found  in  a  neighboring  garden. 

"  Mary  had  had  her  revenge. 

"  Three  months  after  the  tragedy  she  married  Bothwell,  who  had 
secured  a  divorce  from  his  young  wife  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  event. 

"  Scotland  rose  against  Mary.  She  fled  to  England,  and  threw  her- 
self on  the  protection  of  Elizabeth,  abdicating  the  throne  in  favor  of 
her  son.  She  was  secured  as  a  prisoner,  and  confined  at  Carlisle.  She 
was  taken  from  Carlisle  to  Fotheringhay  Castle.  She  was  at  last  tried 


FRANCIS    II.    AND    MARY    STUART    LOVE-MAKING. 


STORY  TELLING  IN  EDINBURGH.  gT 

for  conspiracy  against  the  life  of  Elizabeth.  Sentence  of  death  was 
passed  upon  her.  She  protested  her  innocence.  You  know  the  rest, 
— the  last  tragedy  of  all,  in  the  Castle  of  Fotheringhay. 

"  Bothwell  died  an  exile  and  a  madman,  some  nine  years  after  his 
marriage  with  Mary. 

"  It  is  said  that  it  was  found,  after  her  execution,  that  her  real  hair, 
under  her  wig,  was  as  white  as  that  of  a  woman  of  seventy.  I  cannot 
wonder. 

"  She  had  one  little  friend  who  remained  true  to  the  last.  It  was 
her  little  dog.  He  followed  her  to  the  block,  and  cowered,  frightened, 
under  her  dress,  at  the  fatal  moment,  and  lay  down  beside  her  headless 
body  when  the  last  tragedy  was  over.  It  could  not  be  driven  away 
from  its  mistress ;  and  when  the  body  was  removed  it  began  to  droop, 
as  though  understanding  its  loss,  and  in  two  days  it  died." 

"  I  have  spoken  at  school  a  poem  by  Bulwer  Lytton,  founded  on 
the  incident,"  said  Wyllys. 

"  Can  you  now  repeat  it  ?  "  asked  Master  Lewis. 

"  I  will  try." 

THE    DEAD    QUEEN. 

The  world  is  full  of  life  and  love;  the  world  methinks  might  spare, 

From  millions,  one  to  watch  above  the  dust  of  monarchs  there. 

And  not  one  human  eye  !  —  yet,  lo  !  what  stirs  the  funeral  pall  ? 

What  sound  — it  is  not  human  woe  wails  moaning  through  the  hall. 

Close  by  the  form  mankind  desert  one  thing  a  vigil  keeps  ; 

More  near  and  near  to  that  still  heart  it  wistful,  wondering,  creeps. 

It  gazes  on  those  glazed  eyes,  it  hearkens  for  a  breath  ; 

It  does  not  know  that  kindness  dies,  and  love  departs  from  death. 

It  fawns  as  fondly  as  before  upon  that  icy  hand, 

And  hears  from  lips  that  speak  no  more  the  voice  that  can  command. 

To  that  poor  fool,  alone  on  earth,  no  matter  what  had  been 
The  pomp,  the  fall,  the  guilt,  the  worth,  the  dead  was  still  a  Queen. 
With  eyes  that  horror  could  not  scare,  it  watched  the  senseless  clay, 
Crouched  on  the  breast  of  death,  and  there  moaned  its  fond  life  away. 
And  when  the  bolts  discordant  clashed,  and  human  steps  drew  nigh. 


92         ZIGZAG  JOURXEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

The  human  pity  shrank  abashed  before  that  faithful  eye ; 
It  seemed  to  gaze  with  such  rebuke  on  those  who  could  forsake, 
Then  turned  to  watch  once  more  the  look,  and  strive  the  sleep  to  wake. 
They  raised  the  pall,  they  touched  the  dead:  a  cry,  and  both  were  stilled, 
Alike  the  soul  that  hate  had  sped,  the  life  that  love  had  killed. 

SeimYamis  of  England,1  hail !   thy  crime  secures  thy  sway ; 

But  when  thine  eyes  shall  scan  the  tale  those  hireling  scribes  convey. 

When  thou  shah  read,  with  late  remorse,  how  one  poor  slave  was  found 

Beside  thy  butchered  rival's  corse,  the  headless  and  discrowned, 

Shall  not  thy  soirf  foretell  thine  own  unloved,  expiring  hour, 

When  those  who  kneel  around  the  throne  shall  fly  the  falling  tower?  — 

When  thy  great  heart  shall  silent  break  ;  when  thy  sad  eyes  shall  strain 

Through  vacant  space,  one  thing  to  seek,  one  thing  that  loved  —  in  vain  ? 

Though  round  thy  parting  pangs  of  pride  shall  priest  and  noble  crowd, 

More  worth  the  grief  that  mourned  beside  thy  victim's  gory  shroud  ! 

Master  Lewis  continued  the  general  subject  of  the  meeting. 

"  What,  Frank,  has  been  the  most  interesting  object  you  have 
seen?" 

"  The  Cannongate.  I  read  its  history  in  the  guide-book,  and  I 
spent  an  hour  in  the  place.  One  could  seem  in  fancy  to  live  there 
hundreds  of  years." 

"  King  James  rode  through  this  street  on  his  way  to  Flodden,"  said 
Master  Lewis.  "  Montrose  was  dragged  here  upon  a  hurdle.  It  was 
in  a  church  here  that  Jenny  Geddes  bespoke  the  sentiment  of  the 
people  by  hurling  her  stool  at  the  head  of  the  Dean,  who  attempted  to 
enforce  the  Episcopal  service. 

" '  I  will  read  the  Collect,'  said  the  Dean. 

" '  Colic,  said  ye  ?     The  De'il  colic  the  wame  of  ye ! ' 

"  Here  came  John  Knox,  after  his  interview  with  Queen  Mary,  cold 
and  grim,  and  unmoved  by  her  tears.  Here  rode  the  Pretender. 
Here  dwelt  the  great  Dukes  of  Scotland  and  the  Earls  of  Moray  and 
Mar." 

"  I  wished  I  were  a  poet,  a  painter,  or  an  historian,  when  I  was 
there,"  said  Frank.  "  It  is  said  Sir  Walter  Scott  used  to  ride  there 

1  Elizabeth. 


THE    DEATH-BED    OF     FRANCIS    II. 


STORY  TELLING  IN  EDINBURGH. 


95 


slowly,  and  that  almost  every  gable  recalled  to  him  some  scene  of 
triumph  or  of  bloodshed." 

"  I  cannot  begin  to  tell  you  stories  of  Cannongate,"  said  Master 
Lewis.  "  Such  stories  would  fill  volumes,  and  give  a  view  of  the  whole 
of  Scottish  history.  What,  Ernest,  has  impressed  you  most?" 

"  The  view  of  Edinburgh  at  night  is  the  most  beautiful  sight  I  have 
seen.  But  the  charm  that  Scott's  poetry  has  given  to  Melrose  Abbey, 
haunts  me  still,  notwithstanding  my  disappointment  at  the  ruin.  This 
was  the  tomb  of  the  Douglases  and  of  the  heart  of  Bruce. 

"  I  will  tell  you  a  story  of  one  of  the  Douglases,  whose  castle  still 
stands,  not  far  from  Melrose,"  said  Master  Lewis;  "a  story  which 
T  think  is  one  of  the  most  pleasing  of  the  Border  Wars.  I  will  call 
the  story 

THE   BLACK   DOUGLAS. 

"  King  Edward  I.  of  England  nearly  conquered  Scotland.  They 
did  not  have  photographs  in  those  days,  but  had  expressive  and  descrip- 
tive names  for  people  of  rank,  which  answered  just  as  well.  So  Edward 
was  known  as  '  Longshanks.'  It  was  from  no  lack  of  spirit  or  energy 
that  he  did  not  quite  complete  the  stubborn  work ;  but  he  died  a  little 
too  soon.  On  his  death-bed  he  called  his  pretty,  spiritless  son  to  him, 
and  made  him  promise  to  carry  on  the  war ;  he  then  ordered  that  his 
body  should  be  boiled  in  a  caldron,  and  that  his  bones  should  be 
wrapped  up  in  a  bull's  hide,  and  carried  at  the  head  ot  the  army  in 
future  campaigns  against  the  Scots.  After  these  and  some  other  queer 
requests,  death  relieved  him  of  the  hard  politics  of  this  world,  and  so  he 
went  away.  Then  his  son,  Edward  II.,  tucked  away  the  belligerent  old 
King's  bones  among  the  bones  of  other  old  kings  in  Westminster 
Abbey,  and  spent  his  time  in  dissipation  among  his  favorites,  and 
allowed  the  resolute  Scots  to  recover  Scotland. 

"  Good  James,  Lord  Douglas,  was  a  very  wise  man  in  his  day.  He 
may  not  have  had  long  shanks,  but  he  had  a  very  long  head,  as  you 


96         ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

shall  presently  see.  He  was  one  of  the  hardest  foes  with  whom  the 
two  Edwards  had  to  contend,  and  his  long  head  proved  quite  too 
powerful  for  the  second  Edward,  who,  in  his  single  campaign  against 
the  Scots,  lost  at  Bannockburn  nearly  all  that  his  father  had  gained. 

"  The  tall  Scottish  Castle  of  Roxburgh  stood  near  the  .border,  lifting 
its  grim  turrets  above  the  Teviot  and  the  Tweed.  When  the  Black 
Douglas,  as  Lord  James  was  called,  had  recovered  castle  after  castle 
from  the  English,  he  desired  to  gain  this  stronghold,  and  determined  to 
accomplish  his  wish. 

"  But  he  knew  it  could  be  taken  only  by  surprise,  and  a  very  wily 
ruse  it  must  be.  He  had  outwitted  the  English  so  many  times  that 
they  were  sharply  on  the  lookout  for  him. 

"  How  could  it  be  done  ? 

"  Near  the  castle  was  a  gloomy  old  forest,  called  Jedburgh.  Here, 
just  as  the  first  days  of  spring  began  to  kindle  in  the  sunrise  and  sun- 
sets, and  warm  the  frosty  hills,  Black  Douglas  concealed  sixty  picked 
men. 

"  It  was  Shrove-tide,  and  Fasten's  Eve,  immediately  before  the  great 
Church  festival  of  Lent,  was  to  be  celebrated  with  a  great  gush  of  music 
and  blaze  of  light  and  free  offerings  of  wine  in  the  great  hall  of  the 
castle.  The  garrison  was  to  have  leave  for  merry-making  and  indulging 
in  drunken  wassail. 

"  The  sun  had  gone  down  in  the  red  sky,  and  the  long,  deep  shadow 
began  to  fall  on  Jedburgh  woods,  the  river,  the  hills,  and  valleys. 

"  An  officer's  wife  had  retired  from  the  great  hall,  where  all  was 
preparation  for  the  merry-making,  to  the  high  battlements  of  the  castle, 
in  order  to  quiet  her  little  child  and  put  it  to  rest.  The  sentinel,  from 
time  to  time,  paced  near  her.  She  began  to  sing, — 

"  '  Hush  ye,  Hush  ye, 

Hush  ye,  Do  not  fret  ye  ; 

Little  pet  ye !  The  Black  Douglas 

Hush  ye,  Shall  not  get  ye  !  ' 


MARY    STUART    SWEARING    SHE    HAD    NEVER    SOUGHT    THE    LIFE    OF    ELIZABETH. 


STORY  TELLING  IN  EDINBURGH. 


99 


"  She  saw  some  strange  objects  moving  across  the  level  ground  in 
the  distance.  They  greatly  puzzled  her.  They  did  not  travel  quite 
like  animals,  but  they  seemed  to  have  four  legs. 

"  '  What  are  those  queer-looking  things  yonder  ? '  she  asked  of  the 
sentinel  as  he  drew  near. 

" '  They  are  Farmer  Asher's  cattle,'  said  the  soldier,  straining  his 
eyes  to  discern  the  outlines  of  the  long  figures  in  the  shadows.  '  The 
good  man  is  making  merry  to-night,  and  has  forgotten  to  bring  in  his 
oxen ;  lucky  't  will  be  if  they  do  not  fall  a  prey  to  the  Black  Douglas.' 

"  So  sure  was  he  that  the  objects  were  cattle  that  he  ceased  to 
watch  them  longer. 

"  The  woman's  eye,  however,  followed  the  queer-looking  cattle  for 
some  time,  until  they  seemed  to  disappear  under  the  outer  works  of  the 
castle.  Then,  feeling  quite  at  ease,  she  thought  she  would  sing  again. 
Spring  was  in  the  evening  air ;  it  may  have  made  her  feel  like  singing. 

"  Now  the  name  of  the  Black  DouHas  had  become  so  terrible  to  the 

O 

English  that  it  proved  a  bugbear  to  the  children,  who,  when  they  mis- 
behaved, were  told  that  the  Black  Douglas  would  get  them.  The  little 
ditty  I  have  quoted  must  have  been  very  quieting  to  good  children  in 
those  alarming  times. 

"  So  the  good  woman  sang  cheerily,  — 

"  '  Hush  ye,  Hush  ye, 

Hush  ye,  Do  not  fret  ye ; 

Little  pet  ye  !  The  Black  Douglas 

Hush  ye,  Shall  not  get  ye  ! ' 

" '  Do  NOT  BE  so  SURE  OF  THAT  ! '  said  a  husky  voice  close  beside 
her,  and  a  mail-gloved  hand  fell  solidly  upon  her  shoulder.  She  was 
dreadfully  frightened,  for  she  knew  from  the  appearance  of  the  man  he 
must  be  the  Black  Douglas. 

"  The  Scots  came  leaping  over  the  walls.  The  garrison  was  merry- 
making below,  and,  almost  before  the  disarmed  revellers  had  any  warn- 


I00       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,   VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

ing,  the  Black  Douglas  was  in  the  midst  of  them.  The  old  stronghold 
was  taken,  and  many  of  the  garrison  were  put  to  the  sword ;  but  the 
Black  Douglas  spared  the  woman  and  the  child,  who  probably  never 
afterward  felt  quite  so  sure  about  the  little  ditty,  — 

"  <  Hush  ye, 
Hush  ye, 
Do  not  fret  ye ; 
The  Black  Douglas 
Shall  not  get  ye  ! ' 

It  is  never  well  to  be  too  sure,  you  know. 

"  Douglas  had  caused  his  picked  men  to  approach   the  castle  by 
walking  on  their  hands  and  knees,  with  long  black  cloaks  thrown  over 


THE   BLACK  DOUGLAS   SURPRISING  AN   ENEMY. 

their  bodies,  and  their  ladders  and  weapons  concealed  under  their 
cloaks.  The  men  thus  presented  very  nearly  the  appearance  of  a  herd 
of  cattle  in  the  deep  shadows,  and  completely  deceived  the  sentinel,  who 
was  probably  thinking  more  of  the  music  and  dancing  below  than  of 


STORY  TELLING  IN  EDINBURGH.  IOI 

the  watchful  enemy  who  had  been  haunting  the  gloomy  woods  of 
Jedburgh. 

"  The  Black  Douglas,  or  '  Good  James,  Lord  Douglas,'  as  he  was 
called  by  the  Scots,  fought,  as  I  have  already  said,  with  King  Robert 
Bruce  at  Bannockburn.  One  lovely  June  day,  in  the  far-gone  year  of 
1329,  King  Robert  lay  dying.  He  called  Douglas  to  his  bedside, 
and  told  him  that  it  had  been  one  of  the  dearest  wishes  of  his  heart 
to  go  to  the  Holy  Land  and  recover  Jerusalem  from  the  Infidels ;  but 
since  he  could  not  go,  he  wished  him  to  embalm  his  heart  after  his 
death,  and  carry  it  to  the  Holy  City  and  deposit  it  in  the  Holy 
Sepulchre. 

"  Douglas  had  the  heart  of  Bruce  embalmed  and  inclosed  in  a  silver 
case,  and  wore  it  on  a  silver  chain  about  his  neck.  He  set  out  for 
Jerusalem,  but  resolved  first  to  visit  Spain  and  engage  in  the  war 
waged  against  the  Moorish  King  of  Grenada.  He  fell  in  Andalusia,  in 
battle.  Just  before  his  death,  he  threw  the  silver  casket  into  the  thick- 
est of  the  fight,  exclaiming,  '  Heart  of  Bruce !  I  follow  thee  or  die  ! ' 

"  His  dead  body  was  found  beside  the  casket,  and  the  heart  of  Bruce 
was  brought  back  to  Scotland  and  deposited  in  the  ivy-clad  Abbey 
of  Mel  rose. 

"  Douglas  was  a  real  hero,  and  few  things  more  engaging  than  his 
exploits  were  ever  told  under  the  holly  and  mistletoe,  or  in  the  warm 
Christmas  light  of  the  old  Scottish  Yule-logs." 

"  What  has  interested  you  most  in  Scotland,"  said  Master  Lewis  to 
George  Howe,  continuing  the  subject. 

"  I  am  hardly  interested  in  antiquities  at  all,"  said  George,  frankly. 
"  I  try  to  be,  but  it  is  not  in  me.  A  living  factory  is  more  to  my  taste 
than  a  dead  museum.  The  most  interesting  things  I  have  seen  are 
the  great  Glasgow  factories.  As  for  stories,  I  have  been  thinking  of 
one  that  has  more  force  for  me  than  all  the  legends  I  ever  read." 

"  We  shall  be  glad  to  hear  you  tell  it,"  said  Master  Lewis.  "  My 
business  is  teaching,  and  it  is  my  duty  to  stimulate  a  love  of  literature. 


102      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

But   I   have  all  respect  for   a   boy   with    mechanical   taste ;    no  lives 
promise  greater  usefulness.     We  will  listen  to  George's  story." 
"  It  is  not  a  romantic  story,"  said  George.     "  I  will  call  it 

A   GLASGOW   FACTORY   BOY. 

"Just  above  the  wharves  of  Glasgow,  on  the  banks  of  the  Clyde, 
there  once  lived  a  factory  boy,  whom  I  will  call  Davie.  At  the  age  of 
ten  he  entered  a  cotton  factory  as  '  piecer.'  He  was  employed  from  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning  till  eight  at  night.  His  parents  were  very  poor, 
and  he  well  knew  that  his  must  be  a  boyhood  of  very  hard  labor.  But 
then  and  there,  in  that  buzzing  factory,  he  resolved  that  he  would 
obtain  an  education,  and  would  become  an  intelligent  and  a  useful  man. 
With  his  very  first  week's  wages  he  purchased  4  Ruddiman's  Rudiments 
of  Latin.'  He  then  entered  an  evening  school  that  met  between  the 
hours  of  eight  and  ten.  He  paid  the  expenses  of  his  instruction  out  of 
his  own  hard  earnings.  At  the  age  of  sixteen  he  could  read  Virgil  and 
Horace  as  readily  as  the  pupils  of  the  English  grammar  schools. 

"  He  next  began  a  course  of  self-instruction.  He  had  been  ad- 
vanced in  the  factory  from  a  'piecer'  to  the  spinning-jenny.  He 
brought  his  books  to  the  factory,  and  placing  one  of  them  on  the 
'jenny,'  with  the  lesson  open  before  him,  he  divided  his  attention 
between  the  running  of  the  spindles  and  rudiments  of  knowledge.  He 
now  began  to  aspire  to  become  a  preacher  and  a  missionary,  and  to 
devote  his  life  in  some  self-sacrificing  way  to  the  good  of  mankind.  He 
entered  Glasgow  University.  He  knew  that  he  must  work  his  way,  but 
he  also  knew  the  power  of  resolution,  and  he  was  willing  to  make 
almost  any  sacrifice  to  gain  the  end.  He  worked  at  cotton-spinning 
in  the  summer,  lived  frugally,  and  applied  his  savings  to  his  college 
studies  in  the  winter.  He  completed  the  allotted  course,  and  at  the 
close  was  able  triumphantly  to  say,  '/  never  had  a  farthing  that  I  did 

not  earn' 

i 

"  That  boy  was  Dr.  David  Livingstone." 


STOKY  TELLING  IN  EDINBURGH. 


103 


"  An  excellent  story,"  said  Master  Lewis.  "  A  sermon  in  a  story, 
and  a  volume  of  philosophy  in  a  life.  Now,  Tommy,  what  is  the  most 
attractive  thing  you  have  seen  ?  " 

"  I  see  it  now.  Oh,  look !  look ! "  said  Tommy,  flying  to  the 
window. 

The  full  moon  was  hanging  over  the  great  castle,  whitening  its 
Grim  turrets. 

o 

The  boys  all  gazed  upon  the  scene,  which  appeared  almost  too 
beautiful  for  reality. 

"  It  looks  like  a  castle  in  the  sky,"  said  Wyllys. 

Story-telling  was  at  an  end.  So  the  exercises  ended  with  an 
exhibition  of  Edinburgh  Castle  by  moonlight. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

A   RAINY   EVENING   STORY   AT   CARLISLE. 

THE  DRUIDS  AND  ROMANS.  — THE  STORY  OF  THE  JOLLY  HARPER  MAN.  —  "WHEN  FIRST 

I  CAME  TO  MERRY  CARLISLE." 

ARLISLE!"  said  Master  Lewis,  as  the  cars  stopped  at  a 
busy  looking  city,  the  terminus  of  many  lines  of  railway. 

"  Carlisle  ?  "  asked  Frank  Gray,  glancing  at  the  evidences 
of  business  energy  about  the  station.      "  Carlisle  ?    I  have 
heard  that  the  city  was  a  thousand  years  old." 

"An  old  city  may  grow,"  said  Master  Lewis,  on  the  way  to  the 
hotel.  "In  1800,  Carlisle  had  but  4,000  inhabitants,  now  it  has  more 
than  30,000." 

Carlisle  was  the  ancient  seat  of  the  kings  of  Cambria,  and  was  a 
Roman  station  in  the  early  days  of  the  Christian  era.  It  was  destroyed 
in  900  by  the  Danes,  was  ravaged  by  the  Picts  and  Scots,  was  doubt- 
less visited  by  Agricola,  Severus,  and  Hadrian,  and  it  has  a  part  in  the 


A   RAINY  EVENING  STORY  AT  CARLISLE. 


history  of  all  the  Border  wars.  Here  half-forgotten  kings  lived ;  here 
Roman  generals  made  their  airy  camps,  and  near  it  the  grotesque  ships 
of  Roman  emperors  dropped  their  sails  in  the  Solway.  Here  Chris- 


ROMANS   INVADING    BRITAIN. 


tianity  made  an  early  advent,  and  the  hideous  rites  of  the  Druid  priests 
disappeared. 

The  ancient  Druids  worshipped  in  sacred  groves ;  the  oaks  were 
their  fanes  and  chapels,  but  they  erected  immense  stone  temples  open 
to  the  sky,  the  moon,  and  stars :  these  were  their  cathedrals.  In  them 
were  great  stones  used  as  altars  of  sacrifice,  and  on  their  altars  the  dark 
and  mysterious  priests  offered  up  human  victims  to  their  gods. 

The  country  around  Carlisle  abounds  in  Roman  and  Druidical 
relics,  and  in  antiquities  associated  with  the  Border  contests.  At  Pen- 
rith  may  be  seen  the  ruins  of  a  Druid  temple,  formed  of  sixty-seven 
immense  stones,  called  "  long  Meg  and  her  daughters." 

The  Isle  of  Man,  the  ancient  and  poetic  Mona,  whose  grand  scenery 
was  once  the  supposed  abode  of  the  gods  of  the  Saxons,  lies  near  the 
Solway,  and  to  it  excursion  steamers  go  from  the  western  coast  towns 
of  England  carrying  pleasure  seekers  all  the  long  summer  days.  Here 


I06      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


the  Druids  gathered  af- 
ter the  defeat  of  the 
Saxons  by  the  Romans, 
and  thither  the  Romans 
followed  them,  and  fell 
upon  the  long-bearded 
priests  and  the  wild 
torch-bearing  priest- 
esses, and  put  them  to 
the  sword.  The  island 
of  Mona  may  be  called 
the  Druid's  sepulchre. 

The  afternoon  was 
rainy,  and  the  boys, 
though  impatient,  were 
confined  to  the  hotel. 

In  the  evening  Mas- 
ter Lewis  said,  — 

"  One  of  the  most 
quaint  and  curious  of 
old  English  ballads  is 
associated  with  Carlisle, 

and  is  founded  upon  a  funny  story  which  illustrates  the  rude  simplicity 
of  the  early  English  court.  The  ballad  may  be  found  in  the  Percy 
Society's  Collections,  which  yoi!  may  some  day  examine  in  the  Bos- 
ton Public  Library,  or  indeed  in  any  great  library  at  home  or  in  Eng- 
land. It  is  entitled  '  The  Jolly  Harper  Man.'  I  will  relate  it  to  you 
in  the  rather  decorated  style  that  I  once  heard  it  told  to  a  company 
of  young  people  at  a  Christmas  gathering  in  one  of  the  London  char- 
ity schools.  I  hope  it  will  interest  you  as  much  now  as  it  did  the  boys 
and  girls  who  listened  to  it  then. 


DRUID  SACRIFICE 


A   RAINY  EVENING  STORY  AT  CARLISLE. 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  JOLLY  HARPER  MAN  AND  HIS  GOOD  FORTUNE. 

"  Many,  many  years  ago,  —  as  long  ago  as  the  days  of  Fair  Rosa- 
mond, when  Henry  Plantagenet  and  his  unruly  family  governed  England, 
and  some  think  as  long  ago  as  old  Henry  I.,  —  there  lived  in  Scotland 
a  jolly  harper  man,  who  was  accounted  the  most  charming  player  in  all 
the  world.  The  children  followed  him  in  crowds  through  the  streets, 
nor  could  they  be  stopped  while  he  continued  playing ;  even  the  animals 
in  the  woods  sat  on  their  haunches  to  listen  when  he  wandered  harping 
through  the  country;  and  the  fair  daughters  of  the  nobles  immediately 
fell  in  love  as  often  as  he  approached  their  castles. 

"King  Henry  had  a  wonderful  horse  —  a  very  wonderful  horse  — 
named  Brownie.  He  did  not  quite  equal  in  dexterity  and  intelligence 
the  high-flying  animal  of  whom  you  have  read  in  the  '  Arabian  Nights,' 
but  he  knew  a  great  deal,  and  was  a  sort  of  philosopher  among  horses, 
—  just  as  Newton  was  a  philosopher  among  men.  King  Henry  said 
he  would  not  part  with  him  for  a  province,  —  he  would  rather  lose  his 
crown.  In  this  he  was  wise,  for  a  new  crown  could  have  been  as  easily 
made  as  a  stew-pan ;  but  all  the  world,  it  may  be,  could  not  produce 
such  another  intelligent  horse. 

"  King  Henry  had  fine  stables  built  for  the  animal,  —  a  sort  of  horse 
palace.  They  were  very  strong,  and  were  fastened  by  locks,  and  bars, 
and  bolts,  and  were  kept  by  gay  grooms,  and  guarded  day  and  night 
by  soldiers,  who  never  had  been  known  to  falter  in  their  devotion  to 
the  interests  of  the  king. 

"  So  strongly  was  the  animal  guarded,  that  it  came  to  be  a  proverb 
among  the  English  yeomanry,  that  a  person  could  no  more  do  this  or 
that  hard  thing  than  '  they  could  steal  Brownie  from  the  stables  of 
the  king.' 

"  The  king  liked  the  proverb ;  it  was  a  compliment  to  his  wisdom 
and  sagacity.  It  made  him  feel  good,  —  so  good,  in  fact,  that  it  led  him 


HO       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OK,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

one  day  quite  to  overshoot  the  mark  in  an  effort  that  he  made  to  increase 
the  people's  high  opinion. 

" '  If  any  one,'  said  he,  after  a  good  dinner,  — '  if  any  one  were  smart 
enough  to  get  Brownie  out  of  his  stables  without  my  knowledge,  I  would 
for  his  cleverness  forgive  him,  and  give  him  an  estate  to  return  the 
animal.'  Then  he  looked  very  wise,  and  felt  very  comfortable  and  very 
secure.  '  But,'  he  added,  '  evil  overtake  the  man  who  gets  caught  in 
an  attempt  to  steal  my  horse.  Lucky  will  it  be  for  him  if  his  eyes  ever 
see  the  light  of  the  English  sun  again.' 

"  Then  the  report  went  abroad  that  the  man  who  would  be  so  shrewd 
as  to  get  possession  of  the  king's  horse  should  have  an  estate,  but  that 
he  who  failed  in  the  attempt  should  lose  his  head. 

"  The  English  court,  at  this  time,  was  at  Carlisle,  near  the  Scottish 
border.  The  jolly  harper  man  lived  in  the  old  town  of  Striveling,  since 
called  Stirling,  at  some  distance  from  the  border. 

"The  jolly  harper  man,  like  most  people  of  genius,  was  very  poor. 
He  often  played  in  the  castles  of  the  nobles,  especially  on  festive  occa- 
sions ;  and,  as  he  contrasted  the  luxurious  living  of  these  fat  lords  with 
his  own  poverty,  he  became  suddenly  seized  with  a  desire  for  wealth, 
and  he  remembered  the  proverb,  which  was  old  even  then,  that  *  Where 
there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way.' 

"  One  autumn  day,  as  he  was  travelling  along  the  borders  of  Loch 
Lomond,  a  famous  lake  in  the  middle  of  Scotland,  he  remembered  that 
there  was  a  cave  overlooking  the  lake  from  a  thickly  wooded  hill,  in 
which  dwelt  a  hermit,  who  often  was  consulted  by  people  in  perplexity, 
and  who  bore  the  name  of  the  '  Man  of  Wisdom.' 

"  He  was  not  a  wicked  magician,  nor  did  he  pretend  to  have  any 
dealings  with  the  dead.  He  was  gifted  only  with  what  was  called 
clearness  of  vision ;  he  could  see  into  the  secret  of  things,  just  as  Zerah 
Colburn  could  see  into  difficult  problems  of  mathematics,  without 
study.  Things  that  were  darkness  to  others  were  as  clear  as  sun- 
light to  him.  He  lived  on  roots  and  herbs,  and  flourished  so  won- 


A   RAINY  EVENING  STORY  AT  CARLISLE.  Ill 

derfully  on   the  diet,  that  what  he  didn't  know  was  considered   not 
worth  knowing. 

"  It  was  near  nightfall  when  the  jolly  harper  man  came  to  the  famous 
hill.     The  sun  was  going  down  in  splendor,  and  the  moon  was  coming 


THE   HERMIT. 


up,  faint  and  shadowy,  and  turning  into  gold  as  the  shadows  deepened. 
Showers  of  silver  began  to  fall  on  Loch  Lomond,  and  to  quiver  over 
the  valleys.     It  was  an  hour  to  fill  a  minstrel's  heart  with  romantic 
feeling,  and  it  lent  its  witchery  to  the  heart  of  the  jolly  harper  man. 
"  He  wandered  up  the  hill  overlooking  the  lake,  where  dwelt  the 


• 
112       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

Man  of  Wisdom  to  whose  mind  all  things  were  clear.  He  sat  down 
near  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  partook  of  his  evening  meal,  then,*seizing 
his  harp,  began  to  play. 

"He  played  a  tune  of  wonderful  sweetness  and  sadness,  so  soft  and 
airy  that  the  notes  seemed  to  glide  down  the  moonbeams,  like  the 
tinkling  of  fair)'  bells  in  the  air.  The  wicked  owl  pricked  up  his 
ears  to  listen,  and  was  so  overcome  that  he  wished  he  was  a  more 
respectable  bird.  The  little  animals  came  out  of  the  bushes,  and  formed 
a  circle  around  the  jolly  harper  man,  as  though  enchanted. 

"  The  old  hermit  heard  the  strain,  and  came  out  to  listen  ;  and, 
because  he  had  clearness  of  vision,  he  knew  that  music  of  such  wonder- 
ful tenderness  could  be  produced  only  by  one  who  had  great  gifts  of 
nature,  and  who  also  had  some  secret  longing  in  his  heart 

"  So  he  came  up  to  the  jolly  harper  man,  walking  with  his  cane, 
his  gray  beard  falling  over  his  bosom,  and  his  long  white  hair  silvered 
in  the  moonlight. 

"  The  jolly  harper  man  secretly  expected  him,  or  at  least  he  hoped 
that  he  would  come  out.  Like  the  Queen  of  Sheba,  he  wished  to  test 
the  wisdom  of  this  new  Solomon,  and  to  inquire  of  him  if  there 
were  no  way  of  turning  his  wonderful  musical  genius  into  bags  of 
gold. 

" '  Why  do  you  wander  here,  my  good  harper  ? '  asked  the  hermit, 
when  the  last  strain  melted  away  in  low,  airy  echoes  over  the  lake. 
'  There  are  neither  lads  to  dance  nor  lassies  to  sing.  This  hill  is  my 
dominion,  and  the  dominion  of  a  hermit  is  solitude.' 

" '  See  you  not  Loch  Lomond  silvered  in  the  moon  ? '  said  the  jolly 
harper  man.  '  Nature  inspired  me  to  touch  my  harp,  and  I  love  to 
play  when  the  inspiration  of  Nature  comes  upon  me.' 

"  The  answer  pleased  the  hermit  as  much  as  the  music. 

" '  But  why  is  your  music  so  sad,  my  good  harper  man ;  what  is 
there  that  you  would  have  that  fortune  denies  ?  ' 

"  *  Alas  ! '  said  the  jolly  harper  man,  '  I  am  very  poor.     My  harpings 


A   RAINY  EVENING  STORY  AT  CARLISLE.  113 

all  die  in  the  air,  and  leave  me  but  a  scanty  purse,  poor  clothing,  and 
no  roof  over  my  head.  You  are  a  man  of  wisdom,  to  whom  all 
things  are  clear.  Point  out  to  me  the  way  to  fortune,  my  wise  hermit. 
I  have  a  good  liberal  heart;  you  could  not  do  a  service  to  a  more 
deserving  man.' 

"  The  old  hermit  sat  down  on  a  stone  in  silence,  resting  his  chin  on 
his  staff.  He  seemed  lost  in  profound  thought.  At  last  he  looked  up, 
and  said  slowly,  pausing  between  each  sentence,  — 

41  '  Beyond  the  border  there  is  a  famous  country;  in  that  country 
there  is  a  palace ;  near  the  palace  there  is  a  stable,  and  in  that  stable 
there  is  a  stately  horse.  That  horse  is  the  pride  of  the  kingdom  ;  the 
man  who  would  get  possession  of  that  horse,  without  the  king's  knowl- 
edge, might  exchange  him  for  a  province.' 

"  '  Wonderful !  wonderful !     But  —  ' 

"  '  Near  Striveling  town  there  is  a  hill ;  on  the  hillside  is  a  lot ;  in 
the  lot  is  a  fine  gray  mare,  and  beside  the  gray  mare  is  a  foal.' 

"  '  Yes,  yes  !  wonderful !  but  —  ' 

" '  I  must  now  reveal  to  you  one  of  the  secrets  of  Nature.  Separate 
that  mare  from  the  foal,  though  it  be  for  hundreds  of  miles,  and,  as 
soon  as  she  is  free,  she  will  return  to  her  foal  again.  Nature  has  taught 
her  how,  just  as  she  teaches  the  birds  of  passage  the  way  to  sunny 
islands  ;  or  the  dog  to  find  the  lost  hunter ;  or  - 

"  '  Yes,  yes  ;  all  very  wonderful,  but  —  ' 

"'In  your  hand  you  carry  a  harp;  in  the  harp  lies  the  power  to 
make  merry;  a  merry  king  makes  a  festive  board,  and  festivity  produces 
deep  sleep  in  the  morning  hours.' 

"  The  jolly  harper  man  saw  it  all  in  a  twinkling;  the  way  to  fortune 
lay  before  him  clear  as  sunlight.  Perhaps  you,  Tommy,  do  not  get  the 
idea  so  suddenly.  If  not,  I  fear  you  are  not  gifted  like  the  good 
hermit  with  clearness  of  vision. 

"  The  jolly  harper  man  returned  to  Striveling  the  next  day,  after 
spending  the  night  with  the  hermit  on  the  borders  of  Loch  Lomond. 


114      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OK,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  The  following  night  he  was  summoned  to  play  before  two  famous 
Scottish  knights,  Sir  Charles  and  Sir  Roger.  They  were  very  valiant, 
very  rich,  and,  when  put  into  good  humor,  were  very  liberal. 

"  The  jolly  harper  man  played  merrily.  The  great  hall  of  the  castle 
seemed  full  of  larks,  nightingales,  elves,  and  fairies. 

"  '  Why,  man,'  said  Sir  Roger  to  Sir  Charles,  in  a  mellow  mood, 
'you  and  I  could  no  more  harp  like  that  than  we  could  gallop  out  of 
Carlisle  on  the  horse  of  the  king.' 

"  '  Let  me  make  a  prophecy,'  said  the  jolly  harper  man  at  this.  '  I 
will  one  day  ride  into  Carlisle  on  the  horse  of  the  king,  and  will  exchange 
the  horse  for  an  estate.' 

"  '  And  I  will  add  to  the  estate  five  ploughs  of  land,'  said  Sir  Roger ; 
4  so  that  you  never  shall  lack  for  a  home  in  old  Scotland.' 

" '  And  I  will  add  to  the  five  ploughs  of  land  five  thousand  pounds,' 
said  Sir  Charles ;  '  so  that  you  never  shall  lack  for  good  cheer.' 

"  The  next  morning  the  jolly  harper  man  was  seen  riding  out  of 
Striveling  town  on  a  fine  gray  mare ;  but  a  little  colt  was  heard 
whinnying  alone  in  the  high  fenced  lot  on  the  side  of  the  hill. 

"  It  had  been  a  day  of  high  festival  at  Carlisle ;  it  was  now  the  cool 
of  the  summer  eve ;  the  horn  of  the  returning  hunter  was  heard  in  the 
forest,  and  gaily  plumed  knights  and  courtiers  were  seen  approaching 
the  illuminated  palace,  urging  their  steeds  along  the  banks  of  the 
river  Eden,  that  wound  through  the  moonlit  landscape  like  a  ribbon 
of  silver. 

"  The  feast  was  at  its  height.  The  king's  heart  was  merry.  There 
only  needed  some  novelty,  now  that  the  old  diversions  had  come  to  an 
end,  to  complete  the  delights  of  the  festive  hours. 

"  Suddenly  sweet  sounds,  as  of  a  tuning  harp,  were  heard  without 
the  palace.  Then  music  of  marvellous  sweetness  seemed  to  fill  the 
air.  The  windows  and  doors  of  the  palace  were  thrown  open.  The 
king  himself  left  the  table,  and  stood  listening  on  the  balcony. 

"  A  merry  tune  followed  the  airy  prelude ;  it  made  the  nerves  of  the 


A   RAINY  EVENING  STORY  AT  CARLISLE.  He 

old  nobles  tingle  as  though  they  were  young  again ;  and,  as  for  the 
king,  his  heart  began  to  dance  within  him. 

" '  Come  in  !  come  in,  my  harper  man  ! '  shouted  the  king,  shaking 
his  sides  with  laughter,  and  patting  a  fat  noble  on  the  shoulder  with 
delight.  '  Come  in,  and  let  us  hear  some  more  of  your  harping.' 

"  The  jolly  harper  man  bowed  very  low.  '  I  shall  be  glad  to  serve 
your  grace ;  but  first,  give  me  stabling  for  my  good  gray  mare.' 

" '  Take  the  animal  to  my  best  stables,'  said  the  king.  '  Tis  there 
I  keep  my  Brownie,  the  finest  horse  in  all  the  land.' 

"  The  jolly  harper  man,  accompanied  by  a  gay  groom,  then  took 
his  horse  to  the  stables ;  and,  as  soon  as  he  came  out  of  the  stable-door, 
struck  up  his  most  lively  and  bewitching  tune. 

"  The  grooms  all  followed  him,  and  the  guards  followed  the  grooms. 
The  servants  all  came  flocking  into  the  hall  as  the  jolly  harper  man 
entered,  and  the  king's  heart  grew  so  merry,  that  all  who  came  were 
made  welcome,  and  given  good  cheer. 

"  The  small  hours  of  night  came  at  last,  and  the  grand  people  in  the 
hall  began  to  yawn,  one  after  another.  The  jolly  harper  man  now 
played  a  very  soothing  melody.  The  king  began  to  yawn,  opening 
his  mouth  each  time  a  little  wider  than  before,  and  finally  he  dozed  off 
in  his  chair,  his  head  tilted  back,  and  his  mouth  stretched  almost  from 
ear  to  ear.  The  fat  nobles,  too,  began  to  snore.  First  the  king 
snored,  and  then  the  nobles,  which  was  a  very  proper  way  of  doing 
the  thing, — the  blissful  sound  passing  from  nose  to  nose,  and  making 
a  circuit  of  the  tables. 

"  The  guards,  grooms,  and  servants  began  to  feel  very  comfortable, 
indeed ;  and,  though  it  was  their  business  to  keep  awake,  their  eyelids 
grew  very  heavy,  and  they  began  to  reason  that  it  would  be  perfectly 
safe  to  doze  while  their  masters  were  sleeping.  Who  ever  knew  any 
mischief  to  happen  when  everybody  was  asleep? 

"  The  jolly  harper  man  now  played  his  dreamiest  music,  and  just 
as  the  cock  crew  for  the  first  time  in  the  morning,  he  had  the  satisfac- 


Il6       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

tion  of  seeing  the  last  lackey  fall  asleep.  He  then  blew  out  the  lights, 
and  crept  nimbly  forth  to  the  stables.  He  found  the  stable  door  un- 
locked, and  the  gray  mare  kicking  impatiently  about,  and  whinnying 
for  her  foal. 

"  Now,  what  do  you  suppose  the  jolly  harper  man  did  ?  Guess,  if 
you  have  Clearness  of  Vision.  He  took  from  his  pocket  a  stout  string, 
and  tied  the  halter  of  the  king's  horse,  the  finest  in  all  the  land,  to  the 
halter  of  his  own  animal,  and  patting  the  fine  gray  mare  on  her  side 
said :  '  And  now  go  home  to  your  foal.' 

"  The  next  morning  all  was  consternation  in.  the  palace.  The  king's 
horse  was  gone.  The  king  sent  for  the  jolly  harper  man,  and  said,  — 

" '  My  horse  has  escaped  out  of  the  stables,  the  finest  animal  in  all 
the  land ! ' 

" '  And  where  is  my  fine  gray  mare  ? '  asked  the  jolly  harper  man. 

" '  Gone,  too,'  said  the  king. 

" '  I  will  tell  you  what  I  think,'  said  the  jolly  harper  man,  with 
wonderful  confidence.  '  I  think  that  there  has  been  a  rogue  in  the 
town.' 

"  The  king,  with  equal  wisdom,  favored  the  idea,  and  the  jolly 
harper  man  made  an  early  escape  that  morning  from  the  palace. 

"  Then  the  jolly  harper  man  went  as  fast  as  he  could  to  Striveling. 
Of  course,  he  found  his  fine  gray  mare  in  the  lot  with  her  foal,  and  the 
king's  horse  tied  to  her  halter ;  and,  of  course,  he  rode  the  noble  animal 
into  Carlisle ;  and  presenting  himself  before  the  two  knights,  Sir 
Roger  and  Sir  Charles,  claimed  his  five  ploughs  of  'land  and  five 
thousand  pounds. 

" '  Go  to !  go  to  ! '  said  Sir  Roger,  pointing  at  him  in  derision  ;  and 
Sir  Charles  laughed  a  mighty  laugh  of  scorn.  '  The  man  does  not  live 
who  could  ride  away  the  king's  Brownie !  Go  to  ! ' 

" '  The  king's  Brownie  stands  in  your  own  court ! '  cried  the  jolly 
harper  man ;  and  Sir  Roger  and  Sir  Charles  paid  their  forfeits  without 
another  word. 


A   RAINY  EVENING  STORY  AT  CARLISLE.  nj 

"  Then  the  jolly  harper  man  returned  the  king's  horse  to  the  royal 
owner :  and  who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing  as  a  king  breaking  his 
promise  ?  Not  the  jolly  harper  man,  you  may  be  sure." 

"  Is  the  story  a  true  one  ? "  asked  Tommy  Toby. 

"  The  story,  as  I  heard  it,  was  acknowledged  to  be  considerably  em- 
bellished ;  and  I  have  tried  to  make  it  as  attractive  as  possible.  You 
should  always  remember  this,  that  a  good  historic  story  gathers  color 
by  time.  The  stories  of  Faust,  Macbeth,  King  Lear,  William  Tell, 
Robert  the  Devil,  and  many  others  I  might  name,  have  but  meagre 
facts  for  a  starting  point." 

"  I  know  a  story  of  Nottingham,  that  I  think  as  funny  as  that,"  said 
Tommy.  "  It  is  about  the  Wise  Men  of  Gotham." 

"  We  will  hear  it  when  we  go  to  Nottingham,"  said  Master  Lewis. 
"  I  think  we  will  go  there  at  once,  after  an  excursion  to  the  English 
Lakes." 

The  next  morning  George  Howe  and  Leander  Towle  left  the 
party  for  Birmingham,  London,  and  Paris,  as  their  means  would  not 
admit  of  their  making  easy  zigzag  journeys  through  England,  in  the 
way  that  Master  Lewis  had  planned  for  the  other  boys.  They  agreed 
to  meet  Master  Lewis  and  their  companions  in  London,  on'  their 
return  from  Paris,  at  which  time  they  would  have  completed  their 
tour,  and  would  be  obliged  to  leave  for  home  before  the  others  made 
their  journey  through  Normandy. 

Ernest  Wynn,  as  we  have  said,  was  very  fond  of  old  English  and 
Scottish  ballads,  and  he  never  lost  any  good  opportunity  to  hear  a 
new  song. 

While  the  party  were  talking  over  their  plans  for  visiting  English 
places,  the  sound  of  a  piano  in  an  adjoining  room  fell  upon  Ernest's  ear. 

He  left  his  companions,  and,  going  into  the  open  room  from  which 
the  music  came,  listened  attentively  to  the  playing. 

"  Do  you  sing  ? "  asked  Ernest  of  the  player,  who  was  a  pleasant- 
faced  little  miss  about  ten  or  twelve  years  of  age. 


Il8       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS, 

"  Sometimes." 

"  I  like  music.     Will  you  not  sing  for  me  ? 

"  If  I  can.     What  would  you  have  me  sing  ?  " 

"  Oh,  something  about  Carlisle :  something  that  I  would  not  hear 
at  home." 

"  Where  is  your  home  ?  " 

"  In  America." 

"In  America!  What,  so  far?  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  hear 
'  Mona's  Waters  ? '  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Ernest. 

The  song  was  very  winningly  sung. 

"  Now  perhaps  you  would  like  to  hear  '  When  first  I  came  to  merry 
Carlisle'?" 

Ernest  smiled. 

"  It  doesn't  mean  you  at  all.  It  was  a  girl  who  lost  her  lover  in  one 
of  the  Border  Wars. 

'"When  first  I  came  to  merry  Carlisle, 

Ne'er  was  a  town  sae  sweetly  seeming  : 
The  white  rose  flaunted  o'er  the  wall, 
The  thistled  banners  far  were  streaming. 

"  '  When  next  I  came  to  merry  Carlisle, 

Oh  sad,  sad,  seemed  the  town,  an'  eerie ! 
The  auld,  auld  men  came  out  and  wept, 
O  maiden  !  come  ye  to  seek  yere  dearie  ?  ' >: 

"  Thank  you  for  that  song,"  said  Ernest.  "  I  have  heard  '  High- 
land Mary '  sung  at  Ayr,  and  shall  always  remember  it.  And  I  shall 
also  be  pleased  to  recollect,  — 

" '  When  first  I  came  to  merry  Carlisle.'  " 

"  And  '  the  girl  I  left  behind  me,' "  said  Tommy  Toby  to  Ernest, 
softly. 

The  Miss  saw  the  point  of  the  joke,  and,  as  it  was  politely  spoken, 
received  the  implied  compliment  with  becoming  modesty  and  good- 
humor,  saying  that  she  should  also  remember  very  pleasantly  the  visit 
of  the  Zigzag  Club  to  her  father's  house. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

A    CLOUDLESS     DAY. 
SHERWOOD  FOREST.  —  NOTTINGHAM.  —  STORY  OF  THE  WISE  MEN  OF  GOTHAM. 

I  !AVE  stood  by  the  graves  of  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge. 
The  trees  were  green  and  cool ;  the  Rotha  rippled 
beside  the  poets'  resting-place,  and  Helvellyn  and  Catch- 
edicam  in  the  distance  rose  in  the  calm,  bright  air. 
Beautiful  indeed  are  these  mountains  in  midsummer.  The  whole 
Lake  region  is  beautiful  —  beautiful !  " 

Such  was  the  brief  entry  Wyllys  Wynn  made  in  the  journal  in  his 
guide-book,  on  returning  from  the  English  Lakes. 

"  There  is  a  touching  story  associated  with  Helvellyn,"  said  Wyllys 
to  Master  Lewis,  as  the  boys  were  returning  from  the  Lakes,  "  that 
Scott  has  told  in  very  musical  verse.  It  is  of  a  little  dog  that  watched 
beside  the  dead  body  of  his  master  for  several  months,  and  was  found 
guarding  the  bones.  Will  you  not  relate  it  to  us  ?  " 

"Wordsworth  and  Scott,  I  think,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "both  tell 
the  story  in  verse. 

"About  the  year  1805  there  dwelt  in  the  district  a  young  man  of 
elegant  tastes,  who  loved  to  explore  these  mountain  regions.  He  was 
well  known  for  his  literary  attainments,  and  greatly  beloved  for  his 
gentle  and  amiable  manners. 

"  He  used  to  make  frequent  excursions  among  the  wild  mountains, 
and  would  spend  whole  days  feasting  his  eye  on  the  exhaustless  beau- 
ties they  afforded.  He  was  always  attended  by  a  little  terrier  dog,  to 


120      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYSj    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

which  he  was  greatly  .attached,  and  which  was  ever  on  the  alert  to  do 
his  master's  bidding.  Scott,  in  his  ballad,  calls  the  young  man  the 
Wanderer,  and  so  I  will  call  him  now. 

"  One  spring  day,  when  the  streams  were  swollen,  and  the  moun- 
tains were  all  alive  with  waterfalls,  birds,  and  flowers,  the  Wanderer 
set  out  on  an  excursion  that  promised  unusual  attractions,  attended  by 
his  little  favorite.  He  penetrated  too  far,  or  remained  too  long  ;  night 
probably  overtook  him,  and  he  lost  his  way.  He  fell  from  a  prec- 
ipice, and  was  dashed  in  pieces.  For  several  months  the  little  dog 
watched  by  the  remains  of  his  beloved  master,  only  leaving  them,  it  is 
supposed,  to  obtain  necessary  food.  The  remains  of  the  Wanderer 
were  found  during  the  following  summer  by  a  party  of  excursionists, 
and,  when  discovered,  the  terrier  was  guarding  them  with  pitying 
care. 

"  Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  company  with  Wordsworth,  ascended  Helvel- 
lyn  during  the  following  autumn,  and  visited  the  spot  where  the  Wan- 
derer died.  The  well-known  ballad,  one  of  the  most  pathetic  of  Scott's 
poetical  compositions,  was  the  result  of  this  excursion. 

"'I  climbed  the  dark  brow  of  the  mighty  Helvellyn, 

Lakes  and  mountains  beneath  me  gleamed  misty  and  wide, 
All  was  still,  save  by  fits,  when  the  eagle  was  yelling, 

And  starting  around  me  the  echoes  replied. 
On  the  right  Striden-edge  round  the  Red-tarn  was  bending, 

And  Catchedicam  its  left  verge  was  defending. 
One  huge,  nameless  rock  in  the  front  was  ascending,     . 

When  I  marked  the  sad  spot  where  the  Wanderer  had  died.'  " 

The  Class  stopped  at  Sheffield,  and  thence  began  their  first  experi- 
ence of  English  stage-coaching  to  the  old  town  of  Mansfield.  They 
entered  the  latter  upon  a  market-day,  and  found  the  streets  full  of 
empty  carts,  cattle,  and  rustic  people,  presenting  a  scene  of  truly  an- 
cient simplicity.  Mansfield  is  still  a  miller's  town,  and  must  present 
nearly  the  same  appearance  as  in  the  days  of  Henry  II.,  who,  according 


A    CLOUDLESS  DAY. 


121 


to  the  old  ballad,  was  lost  in  the  forests  near  the  place:  The  forests, 
however,  have  changed  :  little  remains  of  them  but  a  heath,  traversed 
by  wild  and  romantic  roads.  Here  and  there  a  great  tree,  like  a  forest 
lord,  may  be  seen,  to  remind  one  of  the  kingly  hunting  days. 

Leaving  Mansfield  for  Sherwood  Forest,  strange  houses  by  the 
wayside,  excavated  in  limestone  and  recalling  the  supposed  age  of 
the  cave-dwellers,  as  in  an  unexpected  picture,  much  excited  the  boys' 
curiosity. 

Sherwood  Forest,  or  as  much  of  it  as  remains,  is  twenty-five  miles 
long  and  about  eight  broad.  The  new  growth  of  trees  is  very  fine; 
but  it  is  the  remains  of  the 
grand  old  oaks  that  attract  the 
tourist  and  summer  wanderer. 
The  wood  has  a  ground-work 
of  exhatistless  ferns,  the  deli- 
cate birches  flutter  in  the  warm 
winds,  their  peculiar  shade  con- 
trasting with  the  greenery  around  // ^ 
them.  Here  and  there  oaks  of 
different  ages  and  altitudes  rise 
gray,  gnarled,  and  almost  leafless, 
—  oaks  on  which  a  thousand 
tempests  have  beaten,  and  around 
which  ten  thousand  storms  have 
blown.  In  Henry  II.'s  time 
not  only  Nottingham,  but  the 
whole  of  England,  was  covered 
with  oaks. 

Tommy  Toby   was    very   ur- 


SHAMBLE  OAK. 


gent    to    visit   some   of    the    old 

historic    oaks  of    Sherwood,  especially  such    as    are    associated   with 

quaint  stories  and  tragic  histories. 


122       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


Procuring  a  guide,  the  Class  went  first  to  see  Shamble  Oak.  Think 
cf  it :  in  the  main  circuit  it  is  thirty-four  feet !  It  is  called  Shamble 

Oak  because  a  butcher  once 
used  its  hollow  trunk  to  con- 
ceal stolen  sheep.  He  was 
hung  on  an  oak. 

The  guide  next  took  the 
boys  to  a  dreamy  old  place 
called  Welbeck  Park,  to  see 
the  Greendale  Oak,  supposed 
to  be  seven  hundred  years  old, 
and  which  has  a  circumference 
of  more  than  thirty-five  feet ! 

"  It  looks  as  though  it  had 
the  rheumatism,"  said  Tommy. 
"With  all  of  its  crutches  and 
canes  it  will  not  live  many 
years  longer.  Do  you  think  it 
will?" 

"  I  think  it  likely  to  out- 
live all  of  us,"  said  the  guide. 
"  More  than  one  hundred  and 
fifty  years  ago  an  arch  was 
cut  in  this  tree,  and  a  lord 
rode  through  it  on  his  wed- 
ding day.  It  was  very,  very 
old  then ;  but  the  lord  is  gone, 
and  the  oak  lives." 

The  guide  procured  for  the  party  a  vehicle,  and  drove  to  Parlia- 
ment Oak,  under  which  it  is  said  that  Edward  I.  held  a  Parliament 
in  1290.  The  tree  still  furnishes  green  boughs.  Its  girth  is  about 
twentv-nine  feet. 


GREENDALE  OAK. 


A    CLOUDLESS  DAY. 


I23 


-; 


Newstead  Abbey,  the  home  of  Lord  Byron,  forms  a  part  of  the 
old  forest  of  Sherwood,  and  is  but  a  short  distance  from  Mansfield. 
It  was  founded  by  Henry  II., 
and  presents  one  of  the  pic- 
turesque and  interesting  ruins 
in  this  part  of  England. 

"  You  will  not  be  allowed 
to  visit  the  Abbey,"  said  the 
guide.  "  The  rooms  of  Lord 
Byron  remain  just  as  he  left 
them  ;  his  bedstead,  with  gilded 
coronets,  his  pictures,  portraits 
of  friends,  writing-table,  and 
all ;  but  it  is  private  property, 
and  visitors  are  not  allowed." 

"  The  Abbey  was  built  by 
Henry  as  one  of  the  many 
peace  offerings  which  he  made 
for  the  murder  of  Thomas  a 
Becker,"  said  Master  Lewis. 
"  You  remember  the  story  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Wyllys  Wynn. 
"  Thomas  a  Becket  claimed 
that  the  power  of  the  clergy  was  superior  to  the  power  of  the  king, 
and  Henry  pronounced  him  a  traitor.  He  was  killed  at  the  altar  by 
a  party  of  conspirators,  whose  deed  had  the  supposed  sanction  of 
the  king.  "Henry  did  penance  at  Thomas  a  Becket's  tomb." 

"  He  stripped  his  back,  and  allowed  the  monks  to  whip  him,  did  he 
not  ?  "  said  Tommy.  "  I  remember  the  picture  of  it  in  my  history." 

Distant  views  of  Newstead,  so  full  of  strange  memories  and  fan- 
tastic histories,  were  all  the  Class  could  obtain.  The  ruin  looked  down 
upon  the  charming  old  Nottinghamshire  woodlands  like  a  picture  of 


PARLIAMENT  OAK. 


124 


JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LA  ADS. 


the  past,  and  the  spirit  of  romance  and  poetry  seemed  to  linger  around 
it  still. 

Going  next  to  the  fine  old  town  of  Nottingham,  almost  the  first 
thing  which  the  boys  desired  to  see  was  Mortimer's  Hole.     This  is  a 


: 


MORTIMER'S    HOLK. 


passage  through  a  sand-rock,  more  than  three  hundred  icct  in  length. 
Through  this  passage  young  Edward  entered  Nottingham*  Castle  by 
night,  and  thus  surprised  and  captured  Mortimer  (Earl  of  March). 
The  wicked  Earl  was  conveyed  by  the  same  passage  out  of  the  castle 
so  secretly  that  the  guards  were  not  aware  that  it  had  been  entered. 

In  the  evening  spent  at   Nottingham,  Tommy  Toby  was  asked 
about  his  story  of  which  he  had  spoken  in  connection  with  the  place. 


MURDER  OF  THOMAS  A  BECKET. 


A    CLOUDLESS  DAY. 


127 


"  It  is  not  a  story  of  Nottingham,  but  of  Gotham,  near  Notting- 
ham. It  is  about  the  Wise  Men." 

"  Who  went  to  sea  in  a  bowl  ?  "  asked  Frank. 

"  No,  they  were  much  wiser  than  that.  I  will  try  to  tell  it  in  the 
way  Master  Lewis  tells  his  stories :  in  the  rather  decorated  style." 

"  I  hope  you  will  always  have  as  nice  a  sense  of  honor  as  you  show 
now,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  whenever  you  make  the  slightest  change 
from  plain  truth  to  parable.  You  have  a  tact  for  story-telling,  for  one 
so  young ;  and  you  studied  up  the  story  of  '  The  Frolicsome  Duke,' 
which  you  told  the  Club,  in  a  manner  that  quite  surprised  us.  I  hope 
this  story  will  prove  as  entertaining." 

THE   STORY   OF  THE  WISE   MEN   OF  GOTHAM. 

"  More  than  six  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  there  reigned  in 
England  a  king,  named  John.  They  called  him  Sansterre  or  Lack- 
land, for,  unlike  his  brothers,  he  had  received  from  his  father  no  fiefs. 

"  He  was  the  son  of  Henry  Plantagenet,  a  good  king,  as  kings  went 
in  those  rude  times,  who  governed  England  for  thirty-four  years. 

"  His  mother  was  Eleanora  of  Aquitaine,  who  was,  in  her  day,  the 
prettiest  girl  in  France.  But  she  was  a  wilful  little  woman  and  full  of 
craft  She  married  the  French  king  first,  but,  not  liking  him  on  ac- 
count of  his  monkish  ways,  she  procured  a  divorce,  and  told  Henry 
Plantagenet,  who  was  young  and  handsome  and  gay,  that  she  would 
like  to  marry  him.  He  accepted  the  proposal,  because  the  union 
would  add  to  his  dominions  several  provinces.  Henry  loved  Rosa- 
mond Clifford,  —  'Fair  Rosamond,'-- whom  he  had  met  in  the  valley 
of  the  Wye,  and  who  was  the  prettiest  girl  in  all  the  world. 

"  The  marriage  proved  an  unhappy  one.  Henry  soon  discovered 
what  a  wily,  wilful  little  woman  she  was ;  he  tried  to  curb  her,  and  a 
terrible  time  he  had. 

"  Richard  succeeded  his  father.  It  was  he  who  made  the  grandest 
crusade  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  who  was  married  at  Cyprus  in  flower- 


128      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

time;  who  fought  with  noble  Saladin  at  Acre  and  Jaffa;  who  was 
obliged  to  sail  away  from  the  Holy  Land ;  who  looked  back  from  his 
beautiful  ship  on  the  unconquered  coast  with  regret ;  who  was  ship- 
wrecked and  cast  upon  a  hostile  coast ;  and  who  was  discovered,  when 
imprisoned  in  a  gloomy  old  castle  on  the  Danube,  by  the  harp  of 
Blondel  the  Troubadour. 

"  Then  came  John,  in  whose  veins  flowed  the  worst  blood  of  King 
Henry's  family.  Prince  Arthur,  Geoffrey's  son,  had  the  best  claim  to  the 
crown,  but  somehow  John  got  himself  crowned,  and  he  began  to  reign 
so  terribly  that  the  hearts  of  the  barons  quaked  within  them  ;  and  so,  for 
a  time,  he  silenced  all  opposition.  He  was  as  cunning  as  bad  Queen 
Eleanora,  and  he  loved  to  make  mischief  as  well.  He  would  order 
that  a  man  should  be  killed,  apparently  with  as  little  conscience  as  he 
would  have  ordered  a  butcher  to  slay  a  sheep.  Most  bad  kings  have 
been  notable  for  some  good  qualities;  King  John,  so  far  as  I  know, 
had  none. 

"  In  Nottinghamshire  there  is  an  old  town,  removed  from  the  great 
centres  of  life  and  activity,  called  Gotham.  The  inhabitants  were  of 
good  Saxon  stock,  and  they  hated  the  whole  race  of  Norman  Plan- 
tagenets.  These  people  had  learned  something  of  liberty  from  bold 
Robin  Hood,  'all  under  the  greenwood  tree.' 

"  One  day  there  came  a  report  to  Old  Gotham  that  King  John  was 
making  a  progress,  and  would  pass  through  the  town.  Now  it  was  an 
old  custom  in  feudal  times  that  the  course  that  a  king  took,  in  passing 
for  the  first  time  through  a  district  or  a  shire,  should  become  ever  after 
a  public  highway.  The  people  of  Gotham  wanted  no  public  highway 
to  their  town,  no  avenue  that  would  open  their  retreat  to  the  Normans, 
and  put  them  more  easily  in  the  power  of  brutal  kings.  And  they 
hated  John.  So  they  held  a  council,  and  resolved  that  the  feet  of  John 
Lackland,  the  murderer,  should  never  dishonor  the  town  of  Gotham. 

"  But  the  people  understood  that  it  would  be  a  foolhardy  work  to 
•oppose  the  progress  of  the  king  openly.  They  must  rely  upon  their 


RICHARD'S   FAREWELL  TO  THE  HOLY  LAND. 


A    CLOUDLESS  DAY. 

wits.  The  men  decided  to  go  in  a  body  and  fell  large  trees  across  a 
certain  upland,  over  which  the  royal  party  must  pass  to  enter  the  town. 
This  they  did,  making  a  barrier  through  which  mounted  horsemen 
would  find  it  difficult  to  break,  and  which  would  compel  a  party  like 
the  king's  to  turn  off  by  another  way. 

"  When  King  John  came  to  the  eminence,  and  found  his  progress 
arrested,  he  was  very  angry,  and,  finding  a  couple  of  rustics  near  the 
place,  he  demanded  of  them  who  had  made  the  barrier. 

" '  The  people  of  Gotham,'  answered  one  of  the  rustics. 

" '  Go  you  to  Gotham,'  said  the  king,  '  and  tell  the  people  from  me, 
that  as  soon  as  I  return  to  camp  I  will  send  a  troop  to  cut  off  their 
noses.' 

"  The  two  rustics  ran  off,  terribly  frightened,  and  reported  the 
cheerful  intelligence  at  Gotham.  Oh,  then  there  were  stirring  times 
in  that  old  town !  The  people  had  no  wish  to  receive  a  kingly  decora- 
tion in  that  way. 

•'  What  was  to  be  done  ? 

"  They  met  for  consultation. 

"  Now  there  were  wise  men  in  Gotham,  and,  when  the  convention 
met,  these  wise  men  expressed  their  opinions  not  only  on  the  nose 
question,  but  -on  public  affairs  in  general.  After  a  long  deliberation, 
one  of  these  wise  men,  whom  I  will  call  Fitz  Peter,  said :  *  Our  wits 
have  thus  far  prevented  King  John  from  setting  foot  in  our  town,  and 
our  wits  are  able  to  save  our  noses.'  This  opinion  was  received  with 
great  satisfaction. 

"  But  how  should  they  accomplish  the  end  ? 

"  Now  chief  among  the  wise  men  of  Gotham  was  one  whom  I  will 
call  Leofric.  He  at  last  stood  up  with  a  very  knowing  look,  and  said : 
'  I  have  heard  of  many  people  who  were  punished  for  being  wise,  but 
I  never  heard  of  a  person  who  was  punished  for  being  a  fool.  When 
the  king's  troops  come,  let  us  each  imitate  a  safe  example,  and  act  like 
a  fool.' 


132       ZIGZAG  JOUR  KEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  At  this  the  people  shouted.  So  they  decided  to  rely  on  their  wits 
for  the  safety  of  their  noses,  and  to  act  like  fools. 

"  One  morning,  very  early,  as  a  party  of  horsemen  were  leaving 
the  town  for  hunting,  a  troop  appeared,  with  a  fierce  sheriff  at  their 
head. 

"  The  bowmen  were  terribly  scared,  and  the  question  passed  around 
as  to  what  they  should  do.  They  hit  upon  a  plan,  and  threw  away 
their  hunting-gear.  When  the  sheriff  came  up,  he  found  the  old  men 
rolling  great  stones  up  the  hill,  and  the  young  men  bending  over 
and  grunting  as  if  they  were  in  great  distress. 

"'What  are  you  doing?'  demanded  the  sheriff  of  one  of  the  old 
men  who  was  tugging  away  at  a  stone. 

"  '  We  are  rolling  stones  up  hill  for  day.* 

" '  You  old  fool ! '  said  the  sheriff.  '  Go  home  and  go  to  bed,  and 
day  will  come  itself/ 

"  *  Why/  returned  the  man,  as  though  greatly  astonished, '  I  never 
thought  of  that.  How  wise  you  be  !  You  are  the  wisest  man  I  ever 
did  see ! ' 

u  *  And  what  are  you  doing  ? '  asked  the  sheriff,  of  one  of  the 
young  men. 

"  '  We  do  the  grunting*  was  the  prompt  reply. 

"  *  The  old  men  do  the  lifting,  and  the  young  men  do  the  grunt- 
ing ! '  exclaimed  the  sheriff.  '  Well/  he  added,  in  sudden  good-humor, 
'  that  is  the  way  the  wTorld  goes  everywhere ! '  And  he  galloped  away, 
leaving  the  men  unharmed. 

"  The  sheriff  next  met  four  old  women,  with  brooms  on  their 
shoulders. 

" '  Whither  away  ?  '  asked  the  sheriff. 

" '  To  the  priest's,  to  be  married/  said  they  all. 

" '  To  the  priest's,  to  be  married  ?' 

" '  We  go  every  morning  to  be  married/  answered  one  of  the  old 
crones, '  and  we  have  been  for  the  last  forty  years ! ' 


A    CLOUDLESS  DAY. 


'33 


" '  Then  why  are  you  not  married  ? ' 

" '  The  priest  says  that  we  do  not  bring  the  right  thing.  We  carry 
something  new  every  morning.' 

" '  But  why  do  you  not  take  a  man  ?  ' 

"  '  A  MAN  ! '  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  leaping  straight  into  the  air. 
'  A  MAN  ?  I  never  thought  of  that !  How  wise  you  be !  Why,  you 
are  the  wisest  man  that  I  ever  did  see  ! ' 


V" 

LIMESTONE   DWELLINGS. 

"  The  sheriff  next  met  some  men  who  had  started  on  a  journey, 
each  of  whom  carried  on  his  back  a  door. 

" '  Why  do  you  carry  that  door  ? '  asked  the  sheriff  of  one  of  the 
travellers. 

" 4  Left  my  money  at  home.' 


134        ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

" '  Then  why  not  leave  the  door  at  home  too  ?  ' 

tt  *  Afraid  of  thieves.' 

" '  Afraid  of  thieves  ?  Then  leave  your  door  at  home  to  protect 
your  money.' 

" '  They  can't  break  in,  because,  you  see,  I  Ve  got  the  door.' 

"  *  Leave  your  door  at  home,  and  take  your  money  with  you.' 

"  *  I  never  thought  of  that.  How  wise  you  be  !  You  are  the  wisest 
man  that  I  ever  did  see ! ' 

"  The  sheriff  let  the  travellers  pass  on  unmolested. 

" '  The  people  are  all  fools  here,'  he  said. 

M '  It  would  be  too  bad  to  harm  such  simple  people,'  said  his  com- 
rades. 

"'Fools  all,'  said  the  sheriff. 

"  *  Fools  all,'  said  the  horsemen. 

"  *  Let  us  go  back,'  said  the  sheriff, '  and  report  to  the  king  that  the 
people  in  Gotham  are  fools.' 

"  '  Right,'  said  the  men. 

"  So  they  returned  to  the  king,  and  reported  that  Gotham  was  a 
place  of  fools.  And  from  these  circumstances,  or  incidents  like  these, 
if  I  may  believe  an  old  tale,  the  men  of  that  place  were  called,  in  de- 
rision, *  The  Wise  Men  of  Gotham,'  from  that  day." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

A  SERIES   OF   MEMORABLE  VISITS. 

TOMMY  GOES  HUNTING. — "PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK."  —  THE  BOY  AT  THE  WHEEL. — 
LEAMINGTON.  —  STRATFORD-ON-AVON.  —  SHAKSPEARE'S  BIRTHPLACE,  GARDEN,  AND 
TOMB.  —  QUEER  RELICS.  —  KENILWORTH.  —  ERNEST'S  ALBUM  OF  LEAVES  AND 
FLOWERS.  —  WARWICK.  CAS'TLE. — THE  MIGHTY  GUY.  —  THE  ANTIQUE  PORTRESS. 

fASTER  LEWIS  gave  the  boys  a  couple  of  days  in  Notting- 
ham to  enjoy  themselves  as  they  liked. 
Tommy  Toby  went  hunting. 

"  I  want  to  be  able  to  tell  people,"  he  said,  "  that  I 
have  hunted  in  Sherwood  Forest,  the  royal  hunting-ground  of  English 
kings." 

"  In  midsummer  ? "  asked  Master  Lewis.  "  I  fancy  if  you  were  to 
use  a  gun  in  the  Forest  of  Sherwood,  you  might  make  a  longer  vaca- 
tion abroad  than  you  intended." 

"  I  do  not  intend  to  use  a  gun.  I  have  bought  me  a  bow  and 
some  arrows." 

"  Let  me  see  them,"  said  Master  Lewis.  "  They  look  very  harm- 
less, certainly."  Master  Lewis  seemed  to  hesitate  about  making  fur- 
ther objections. 

Just  what  came  of  Tommy's  hunting  we  cannot  state  at  tnis  stage 
of  our  narrative.  He  left  the  boys  at  the  hotel,  bow  anq  arrows  in 
hand,  and  saying  as  a  word  of  parting,  — 

" '  Let 's  go  to  the  wood,  said  Richard  to  Robin.' " 


136       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

He  evidently  went  outside  of  the  city  into  the  wooded  district,  that 
was  a  part  of  old  Sherwood  Forest.  When  Master  Lewis  found  that 
he  had  really  gone  out  of  the  place  he  looked  troubled,  and  said:  — 

"  I  should  have  prevented  it." 

Tommy  returned  late  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day  after  a 
ten  hours'  absence.  He  certainly  looked  like  a  modern  hunter,  for 
he  was  empty  handed,  and  his  clothes  were  in  a  very  disarranged  con- 
dition. 

"  Where  are  your  bow  and  arrows  ?  "  asked  Frank. 

"  I  shall  tell  you  nothing  at  all  about  it,  now,"  said  Tommy.  "  It  is 
my  own  secret." 

"  Then  you  have  two  secrets,"  said  Frank,  referring  to  the  fact  that 
Tommy  had  been  made  custodian  of  the  secret  he  was  supposed  to 
have  selected  for  the  Club." 

"  Yes,  but  that  don't  amount  to  much"  said  Tommy. 

"  Not/iing,  after  all"  said  Master  Lewis,  quietly,  who  had  seen 
Tommy's  conundrum  on  a  card.  "  I  did  not  suppose  that  you  really 
intended  to  spend  the  day  in  the  country  alone  with  bow  and  arrow." 

"Just  look  at  my  legs,"  said  Tommy,  rolling  up  his  pants,  and 
showing  bloody  scars. 

"  Where  did  you  get  them  ?  "  asked  Master  Lewis. 

"  Up  a  tree.  Please  do  not  ask  me  now.  If  you  will  excuse 
me  from  telling  you  now,  I  will  give  you  a  full  account  some  other 
time." 

"  I  will  excuse  you  from  giving  an  account  of  yourself,  to-night ;  but 
please  remember  that  you  must  not  go  hunting,  or  anywhere,  alone 
again  without  my  permission,"  said  Master  Lewis,  noticing  some  singu- 
lar rents  in  Tommy's  clothes. 

Tommy  went  to  his  supper. 

"  I've  been  chased  by  the  terriblest  bull  you  ever  saw,"  he  whispered 
confidentially  to  Wyllys  Wynn,  as  he  passed  him.  "  I'll  tell  you  all 
about  it  some  time." 


A   SERIES   OF   MEMORABLE    VISITS. 


137 


He  added, - 

"  And  that  ain't  all.     I've  been  chased  by  John  Bull,  too." 
Ernest  Wynn  went,  under  an  arrangement  made  for  him  by  Master 
Lewis,  to  the  Peak  near  Castleton,  wishing  to  view  the  scene  of  Sir 


PEVER1L   OF   THE    PKAK. 


Walter  Scott's  charming  romance,  u  Peveril  of  the  Peak."     He  found 

O 

there  only  a  pitiful  ruin,  and  instead  of  knights  with  dancing  plumes 
and  silver  shields,  with  which  fancy  pictures  the  eyry  of  the  grand 
old  Norman  baron,  he  met  some  very  strange-looking  mining  peo- 
ple, who  are  often  to  be  seen  in  the  rural  districts  in  this  part  of 
England. 

One  incident  touched    Frank's  kind    heart,  and  seemed  more  to 


138       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

impress  him  than  the  associations  of  manorial  splendor  he  had  made 
the  journey  to  see. 

In   the   entrance  of  one  of    the  caves  of   the  Peak  was  a  little 
rope-spinner,  who  was  lame,  and  whose  time  was  spent  from  sun  to 


THE   BOY   AT  THE  WHEEL. 


sun  in  turning  the  wheel,  —  always  the  same,  faithfully  turning  the 
wheel. 

"  I  gave  him  a  shilling,"  said  Frank,  "spoke  kindly  to  him,  and  left 
him  gazing  after  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  still  turning  his  wheel, 
turning  his  wheel." 

From  Nottingham  Master  Lewis  and  the  boys  went  to  Birming- 
ham, and  Frank  Gray  and  Ernest  Wynn  made  a  detour  to  the 


A   SERIES  OF  MEMORABLE  VISITS. 


139 


BOSCOBEL. 


little  village  of  Madeley,  and 
visited  Boscobel,  the  place  of 
refuge  of  King  Charles  II.  af- 
ter his  defeat  at  the  battle  of 
Worcester.  The  king  first  ar- 
rived at  White  Ladies  about 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  from 
Boscobel  House :  there  he  se- 
creted himself  in  an  oak,  after- 
wards famous  as  the  Royal 
Oak  of  Boscobel.  The  broth- 
ers Penderell,  foresters  and 
yeomen,  concealed  him  in  closets  in  their  simple  mansion,  being 
true  to  their  sovereign  at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  when  it  might  have 
raised  them  from  poverty  to  riches  to  have  uttered  a  treacherous 
word. 

The  closets  in  which  Charles  was  concealed  are  exhibited  to  visitors, 
and  Frank  and  Ernest  were  allowed  to  pass  up  and  down  the  passages 
that  had  afforded  so  secure  a  retreat  to  the  fugitive.  In  the  parlor 
they  were  shown  a 
chimney-piece,  and 
on  one  of  the  panels 
a  picture  of  the  king 
in  the  oak,  and  on 
another  the  king  in 
disguise  on  horse- 
back, escorted  by  the 
Penderells. 

It  is  said  that  the 
king's  pursuers  were 
thrown  off  the  right 
track  of  discovery  by  an  owl  that  flew  out  of  the  oak  where  he  was  con- 


"THE  PRESEM/EROFTHF.  UFEOF 
KJNC  CHARLES  THE  SECOND. 


140       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  II/  HISTORIC  LANDS, 


cealed,  leading  the  captain  to  say,  "  The  owl  loveth  not  company,  and 

where  he  is  no  one  else  can 
be."  It  is  also  related  that  when 
Charles  complained  of  the  slow- 
ness of  the  horse  on  which  he 
fled  in  disguise,  one  of  the  Pen- 
derells  remarked  that  the  ani- 
mal never  before  had  "  the 
weight  of  three  kingdoms  on 
his  back."  These  stories  may 
not  be  quite  true,  but  one  is 
reminded  of  them  by  the  fig- 
ures on  the  chimney-piece. 

The  Class  next  went  to 
Leamington,  a  most  convenient 
point  from  which  to  make  short 
excursions  to  Stratford-on- 
Avon,  Warwick  Castle,  and 
Kenilworth  Castle.  Learning- 

o 

ton,  although  itself  not  histor- 
ically interesting,  is  provided 
with  excellent  hotels,  being  an  English  watering-place. 

The  first  excursion  of  the  party  from  Leamington  was  to  Stratford- 
on-Avon,  to  the  house  where  Shakspeare  was  born,  and  the  church  in 
which  he  was  buried. 

The  birthplace  of  Shakspeare  is  an  antique-looking  stone  house  two 
stories  high,  with  picturesque  gables  fronting  the  street.  In  the  room 
where  he  first  saw  the  light  of  the  world  he  was  to  enrich  with  his 
thought  there  is  a  cast  of  his  face  taken  after  his  death,  and  a  portrait 
painted  in  the  prime  of  his  life.  The  latter  showed  a  truly  noble 
brow;  it  was  such  a  face  as  fancy  itself  might  paint,  so  royally  did  it 
seem  endowed  with  genius.  In  this  room  Sir  Walter  Scott  had  in- 


KING  CHARLES'S    HIDING   PLACE. 


SHAKSPEAKE. 


A   SERIES  OF  MEMORABLE    VISITS. 

scribed  his  name  on  a  pane  of  glass,  and  Wordsworth  once  wrote  a 
stanza  which  is  still  preserved  under  glass.     It  began  with  these  lines :  — 

"The  house  of  Shakspeare's  birth  we  here  may  see  ; 

That  of  his  death  we  find  without  a  trace. 
Vain  the  inquiry,  for  immortal  he  " 

Here  the  poet  seemed  to  pause  as  though  the  literary  work  was  not 
satisfactory ;  he  drew  his  pen  across  what  he  had  written,  and  under  it 
wrote  the  following  stanza :  — 

"Of  mighty  Shakspeare's  birth  the  room  we  see  ; 

That  where  he  died,  in  vain  to  find  we  try. 
Useless  the  search,  for,  all  immortal  he  : 

And  those  who  are  immortal  never  c'ie." 

The  effort  furnishes  a  curious  illustration  of  the  methods  of  a 
poet's  mind  in  careful  composition. 

Back  of  the  house  is  a  garden,  in  which  grew  the  old  English 
flowers  that  are  portrayed  by  the  poet  in  his  dramas. 

From  the  house  the  party  went  to  the  cottage  of  Anne  Hathaway, 
Shakspeare's  wife,  whom  he  loved  in  youth  when  life's  bright  ways  lay 
fair  before  him.  It  is  a  house  which  is  mainly  noticeable  for  its  sim- 
plicity. 

"  There  is  the  place  where  he  sat  when  he  came  to  see  his  sweet- 
heart," said  the  old  lady  who  showed  the  house. 

Shakspeare  and  his  wife  sleep  in  the  same  beautiful  church  amid 
the  bowery  town  of  Stratford-on-Avon ;  and  thither,  rowing  up  the 
Avon  almost  to  the  churchyard,  our  tourists  made  their  way. 

The  party  approached  the  church  through  an  avenue  of  limes,  and 
entered  the  richly-carved  oak  doors  of  the  Gothic  porch.  The  tomb 
of  Shakspeare  is  in  the  chancel.  The  Avon  runs  but  a  short  distance 
from  the  walls,  and  the  cool  boughs  of  the  summer  trees  wave  before 
the  windows.  A  flat  stone  marks  the  place  where  the  poet  is  buried, 
on  which  are  inscribed  the  oft  quoted  lines  said  to  be  written  by  the 
poet  himself :  — 


144       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  Good  friend,  for  Jesus'  sake  forbear 
To  dig  the  dust  enclosed  here  ! 
Blest  be  the  spade  that  spares  these  stones, 
And  curst  be  he  that  moves  my  bones." 

Over  the  grave,  in  a  niche  of  the  wall,  is  a  bust  of  the  poet.  The 
inscription  mentions  his  age  as  fifty-three  years. 

Returning  to  the  birthplace,  Frank  Gray  and  Tommy  Toby  visited 
the  Shakspeare  Museum.  The  collection  of  curiosities  was  some- 


ANNE   HATHAWAV'S   COTTAGE. 


what  comical,  —  such  for  example  as  a  phial  containing  juice  from  mul- 
berries gathered  from  Shakspeare's  mulberry-tree;  Shakspeare's  jug, 
from  which  Garrick  sipped  wine  at  the  Jubilee  in  1769.  Frank  seemed 
to  enjoy  the  specimens,  his  mind  poetically  associating  them  with  by- 


gone scenes. 


A   SERIES  OF  MEMORABLE    VISITS.  147 

Tommy  showed  a  great  contempt  for  Frank's  wonder-talk. 

"  I've  found  something  now,"  he  said,  "  that  outdoes  all  the  rest. 
It  is  a  letter  written  —  " 

"  By  Shakspeare  ? "  asked  Frank,  in  an  animated  way. 

"  No :  to  Shakspeare." 

"  By  whom  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Richard  Quyney.     You  have  often  heard  of  him,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  He  was  probably  a  literary  man,"  said  Frank. 

"  Probably.     He  asked  for  a  loan  of  thirty  pounds." 

The  next  day's  trip  was  to  Kenilworth  Castle,  an  ivy-hung  ruin 
associated  with  the  whole  of  England's  history,  and  traditionally  with 
the  romances  of  King  Arthur.  The  walls  are  broken,  the  great 
banqueting  hall  has  just  fallen  into  decay,  and  where  the  coronals 
flashed  and  astrals  blazed  at  night,  now  shine  only  the  dim  light  of  the 
moon  and  stars.  Here  Queen  Elizabeth  was  entertained  by  her  favorite, 
the  Earl  of  Leicester.  The  splendor  of  that  reception  has  rarely  been 
equalled.  The  fete,  which  was  one  long  banquet,  broken  by  a  most  won- 
derful series  of  dramatic  representations,  lasted  seventeen  days.  There 
were  tilts  and  tournaments ;  the  park  was  peopled  with  gods  and  god- 
desses to  surprise  the  Queen  wherever  she  went ;  nymphs  and  mermaids 
rose  from  the  pools,  and  there  was  minstrelsy  on  every  hand.  Thirty- 
one  barons  were  present.  Ten  oxen  were  slaughtered  every  morning, 
sixteen  hogsheads  of  wine  and  forty  hogsheads  of  beer  were  consumed 
daily.  There  were  lodged  in  the  castle  four  hundred  servants,  all  of 
whom  appeared  in  new  liveries  of  velvet,  and  shared  the  unrestrained 
hospitality. 

"  All  the  clocks  in  the  castle  were  stopped  during  that  long  festival," 
said  Master  Lewis,  "  and  the  hands  were  all  left  pointing  at  the  banquet 
hour." 

"  But  time  went  on,"  said  Wyllys  Wynn. 

"  Yes,  time  went  on,  and  the  maiden  Queen  grew  old  as  all  mor- 
tals must,  and  there  came  a  time  when  her  vanity  could  no  longer  be 


148       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OK,    VACATIONS  IN   HISTORIC  LANDS. 

deceived.  She  sought  to  keep  from  sight  the  white  hairs  and  wrinkles 
of  age  by  every  art,  but  Nature  did  its  work,  as  with  Canute  and  the 
sea.  When  her  form  and  features  began  to  lose  whatever  of  beauty 
they  once  possessed,  she  tried  to  banish  from  her  mind  the  reality  that 
she  was  past  her  prime  by  viewing  herself  in  false  and  flattering 
mirrors. 

"  But  the  wrinkles  grew  deeper,  and  the  white  hairs  multiplied,  and 
her  limbs  lost  their  power,  and  her  strength  at  last  was  gone.  Her 
flatterers  still  fed  her  fondness  for  admiration  with  their  arts,  and  while 
life  offered  her  any  prospect  she  still  smiled  upon  those  whom  she 
must  have  suspected  were  deceiving  her. 

" '  One  day,'  says  her  attendant,  Lady  Southwell,  '  she  desired  to 
see  a  trite  glass,  which  in  twenty  years  before  she  had  not  seen,  but 
only  such  an  one  as  on  purpose  was  made  to  deceive  her  sight.' 

"  They  brought  it  to  the  poor  withe.red  Queen.  She  raised  it  to 
her  face  with  her  bony  hands,  and  looked.  For  the  first  time  for  years 
she  saw  herself. 

"  It  was  a  revelation.  Her  old  rage  came  back  again.  She  pointed 
to  her  flatterers  with  scorn,  and  ordered  them  to  quit  her  presence. 

"  Then  came  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  disgracing  his  sacred 
office  by  his  words.  '  Madam,'  said  he,  '  your  piety,  your  zeal,  and  the 
admirable  work  of  the  Reformation  afford  great  grounds  of  confidence 
for  you.' 

"  But  the  wretchedly  disenchanted  woman  could  no  longer  be  de- 
ceived. 

" '  My  lord,'  she  said,  '  the  crown  that  I  have  borne  so  long  has 
given  me  enough  of  vanity  in  my  time.  I  beseech  you  not  to  augment 
it  at  this  hour.' 

"  She  had  seen  herself,  and  the  world  also,  in  the  true  glass." 

Ernest  Wynn  was  observed  by  Master  Lewis  making  a  collection 
of  ivy  leaves  at  Kenilworth. 

"  Do  you  collect  leaves  at  all  the  historic  places  you  visit  ? "  he 
asked. 


PORTRAIT  OF   ELIZABETH. 


A    SERIES  OF  MEMORABLE    VISITS.  151 

"  I  picked  some  heather  at  the  birthplace  of  Burns,  brought  ivy  from 
Melrose,  and  wild  flowers  from  Newstead  and  from  the  Peak,  and  I 
purchased  flowers  from  Shakspeare's  garden." 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  do  with  them  ? " 

"  I  will  tell  you  privately.  George  Howe  is  pleased  with  collec- 
tions of  interesting  things,  —  shells,  stamps,  autographs.  He  has  but 
little  money,  and  I  am  making  a  scrap-book  of  pictures,  leaves,  and 
flowers  collected  at  notable  places,  as  a  present  for  him." 

"  It  seems  to  me  an  admirable  plan,"  said  Master  Lewis.  "  I 
should  be  pleased  with  such  a  book  myself." 

The  next  day  the  party  visited  Warwick  Castle,  one  of  the  finest 
and  best  preserved  of  all  the  ancient  country  seats  of  the  English 
nobility.  To  one  approaching  it,  its  rich  lawns,  its  towering  trees  (of 
which  some  are  from  Lebanon),  its  picturesque  windows,  and  har- 
mony of  design  make  it  an  ideal  of  castellated  beauty. 

The  Class  was  ceremoniously  admitted  by  men  in  livery,  and  was 
taken  charge  of  by  a  portly  and  pompous  Englishwoman,  who  wore 
a  black  silk  that  rustled  as  she  swept  along.  She  carried  a  bunch  of 
keys  at  her  side,  and  evidently  entertained  a  high  sense  of  the  dignity 
of  her  position. 

"  This"  said  the  stately  lady,  pointing  to  an  immense  structure  of 
armor,  "  this  is  the  armor  of  the  mighty  Guy." 

"  The  mighty  Guy ! "  said  Tommy  Toby,  with  large  eyes,  "  will  you 
please  tell  us  who  he  was  ?  " 

The  antique  portress  stared  as  though  amazed  at  such  a  confession 
of  ignorance. 

"  We  are  from  America,"  said  Tommy. 

Master  Lewis  smiled  at  being  included  in  the  uninstructed  "  we." 

"  Guy  was  a  giant." 

Tommy's  interest  grew. 

"  He  was  the  great  Earl  of  Warwick :  a  valiant  soldier  who  slew 
so  many  people  that  he  became  melancholy,  and  retired  to  Guy's 


152      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC   LANDS. 

Cliff,  as  it  is  now  called,  and  there  lived  alone  in  a  cave  for  thirty 
years.  He  was  nine  feet  high." 

"And  what  is  that?"  said  Tommy  Toby,  pointing  to  an  immense 
pot. 

"  That,"  said  the  antique  lady,  "  was  the  mighty  Guy 's  porridge  pot" 

"  How  much  does  it  hold  ? " 

"  It  holds  one  hundred  and  twenty  gallons,  and  weighs  eight  hun- 
dred pounds." 

"  Did  the  mighty  Guy  drink  as  much  porridge  as  that  at  every 
meal  ? "  asked  Tommy,  his  curiosity  taking  a  wider  circle  with  each 
new  statement. 

"  I  don't  know ;  all  of  these  things  happened  long,  long  before  I 
was  born." 

"  That?  said  the  lady,  "  is  a  rib  of  the  Dun  Cow." 

"  What  kind  of  a  cow  was  that  ?  "  asked  Tommy. 

"  It  was  a  cow  which  the  mighty  Guy  killed  on  Dunsmore  Heath. 
It  weighs  nine  pounds  and  a  half." 

"  The  cow  ?  " 

"  No,  the  rib." 

The  lady  led  the  party  in  a  procession  which  she  dramatically 
headed  through  the  lower  rooms  of  the  principal  building.  She 
showed  them  the  superb  old  baronial  hall ;  the  drawing-rooms,  mag- 
nificent with  tapestries  and  inlaid  furniture ;  the  pictures  by  Vandyke. 
Then  in  an  awesome  manner  she  suddenly  stopped,  and  said  in  a  low 
confidential  voice,  — 

"  The  Countess  herself  is  above  stairs." 

"  How  many  feet  high  is  the  Countess  ?     I'd  give  a  quarter  —  " 

Tommy's  intended  remark  was  checked  by  Master  Lewis. 

The  lady  requested  a  fee  on  showing  the  party  back  to  the  lodge, 
and  dismissed  Master  Lewis  with  a  stiff  bow  that  indicated  a  want  of 
confidence  in  American  respect  for  the  great  and  mighty  Guy  and  his 
successors. 


CHAPTER   X. 


A  VISIT   TO   OXFORD   AND   WOODSTOCK. 

A    UNIVERSITY   A   THOUSAND    YEARS    OLD.  —  WOODSTOCK.  —  FAIR    ROSAMOND.  —  OLB 
BALLAD.  —  THE    HEAD   OF    BRASS    THAT    SPOKE. 

BEAUTIFUL!  beautiful!"  exclaimed  Wyllys  Wynn,  as  the 
city  of  Oxford  appeared  in  view.  "  It  looks  like  a  city  of 
churches." 

"  It  is  indeed  a  city  of  institutions,"  said  Master  Lewis. 

"  It  is  a  very  old  city,  is  it  not  ? "  asked  Wyllys. 

"  It  is  said  to  have  been  the  residence  of  Alfred  the  Great,  and  of 
King  Canute.  The  University  of  Oxford  was,  according  to  tradition, 
founded  by  Alfred  the  Great." 

"  If  it  be  so,  what  a  monument  the  good  king  left  behind  him  !  It 
was  this  king,  was  it  not, 
whose  mother  offered  a 
beautiful  manuscript  to  the 
one  of  her  four  sons  who 
would  first  learn  to  repeat 
it  from  memory?  Alfred, 
although  he  was  a  mere 
child  and  could  not  read, 
induced  an  instructor  to 
teach  him  the  manuscript, 
and  so  secured  the  prize." 

"  This    was    the    king," 
said    Tommy   Toby,   "  who,  ALFRED  AND  HIS  MOTHER. 


154      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC   LANDS. 

when  flying  from  the  Danes  in  disguise,  was  left  by  a  rustic's  wife  to 
watch  some  cakes  that  were  baking  by  the  fire." 

"  And  let  them  burn,"  said  Wyllys. 

"  The  woman,"  said  Tommy,  "  gave  him  a  gentle  hint,  saying  that 
if  he  was  too  lazy  to  watch  them,  he  would  be  glad  enough  to  eat 
them  when  they  were  cooked.  I  have  heard  my  mother  make  very 
similar  remarks." 


CANUTE    AND    HIS    COURTIERS. 


"  Canute,  of  whom  you  spoke,  was  the  king  who  ordered  his  throne 
to  be  placed  on  the  margin  of  the  sea,"  said  Wyllys  to  Master  Lewis, 
"  and  then  commanded  the  sea  to  rise  no  farther." 


A    VISIT  TO   OXFORD  AND    WOODSTOCK. 


155 


"  But  the  sea  rose,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  and  the  king  refused  to 
wear  again  his  golden  crown  for  ever,  resolving  to  serve  only  that 
King  who  rules  the  sea. 

"  The  history  of  Oxford 
covers  a  period  of  a  thou- 
sand years,"  continued  Mas- 
ter Lewis.  "  Here  Queen 
Matilda,  or  the  Empress 
Maud,  as  she  was  called, 
because  she  had  been  the 
wife  of  the  German  Em- 
peror, was  besieged  by  King 
Stephen,  who  had  usurped 
the  throne,  and  thence  she 
fled  from  him  one  snowy 
day,  herself  and  attendants 
dressed  in  white  that  they 
might  not  be  discovered ; 
here  the  people  closed  the 
gates  against  William  the 
Conqueror ;  here  Richard  I. 
was  born,  and  here  Ridley, 
Latimer,  and  Cranmer  were 
burned.  The  early  history 
of  nearly  all  great  English  scholars  for  many  centuries  is  associ- 
ated with  the  colleges  in  this  place." 

"  How  green  are  the  English  meadows  with  their  hedgerows  and 
trees  !  "  said  Wyllys. 

"  And  how  bright  are  the  streams  that  run  among  them  !  An 
English  landscape  is  more  rich  and  varied  than  an  American." 

"  I  never  would  tell  of  it,"  said  Tommy.  "  Grass  is  grass,  and  we 
have  just  as  good  grass  at  home  as  anywhere." 


FLIGHT  OF   EMPRESS   MAUD. 


156       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


"  We  have  no  buildings  at 
home  that  are  quite  equal  to 
Warwick  Castle,"  said  Frank. 

"  It  is  better  to  admit  ex- 
cellences frankly  wherever  one 
is,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  and 
never  let  any  prejudice  color 
an  opinion.  When  one  is  trav- 
elling it  is  well  never  to  make 
a  comparison." 

Few  scenes  are  more  charm- 
ing, especially  on  a  long  sunny 
summer  afternoon,  than  the  col- 
lege buildings  of  Oxford,  sepa- 
rated by  gardens,  meadows,  and 
rows  of  venerable  trees,  the 
latter  as  old  as  the  roofs  and 
spires  that  rise  above  them. 
While  at  Oxford  the  boys  were  taken  to  Woodstock,  a  distance 
of  some  eight  miles.  The  old  ballad  of  "  Fair  Rosamond"  so  haunted 
the  mind  of  Ernest  Wynn,  at  Oxford,  that  he  induced  Master  Lewis 
to  make  an  excursion  to  Woodstock,  the  scene  of  the  fancied 
tragedy. 

"  I  have  seen  Kenilworth,  the  scene  of  one  of  Walter  Scott's 
romances,"  said  Ernest ;  "  have  been  among  the  associations  of 
'  Ivanhoe,'  and  '  Peveril  of  the  Peak,'  and  I  shall  always  be  glad  to 
have  seen  the  place  of  the  novelist's  other  English  fiction." 

The  town  of  Woodstock  once  constituted  a  part  of  the  royal 
demesnes.  Here  Ethelred  held  a  council,  and  Alfred  the  Great  trans- 
lated the  "  Consolations  of  Boethius."  The  history  of  the  old  palace 
of  Woodstock  is  associated  with  dark  romances,  splendid  cavalcades, 
and  crumbled  kings  and  queens. 


DEATH  OF  LATIMER  AND   RIDLEY. 


A    VISIT  TO   OXFORD  AND    WOODSTOCK. 


157 


Not  a  vestige  of  the  palace  now  remains ;  its  site  is  merely  marked 
by  two  sycamore  trees. 

The  famous  Rosamond's  Bower,  Maze,  or  Labyrinth  seems  to  have 
consisted  of  a  succession  of  under-ground 
chambers,  and  is  thought  to  have  existed 
before  the  time  of  King  Henry  II.,  who 
is  supposed  to  have  used  it  to  hide 
Fair  Rosamond  from  his  jealous  queen. 
There  was  but  one  way  into  it,  though  there  were  many  ways  that 
would  lead  astray  any  one  who  should  try  to  find  the  right  passage. 
It  may  have  been  like  the  following  diagram,  which  may  puzzle  the 
reader  who  attempts  to  find  an  open  way  to  the  centre. 

Henry  II.  had  married  Eleanor  of  Aquitaine,  a  woman  of  bad 
reputation,  full  of  craft  and  wickedness,  whom  the  French  king  had 
put  away.  But  he  gave  his  affections  to  Rosamond  Clifford,  whose 
beauty  had  charmed  him  when  he  first  met  her  in  the  valley  of  Wye.. 
It  is  said  that  she  supposed  herself  wedded  to  him ;  but  however  this, 
may  be,  she  and  not  Eleanor  was  the  spouse  of  his  heart.  She  pined 
away  in  the  seclusion  that  the  king  provided  for  her,  but  he  was  true 
to  her  in  her  illness;  he  hovered  around  her  sick  bed,  and  at  last, 
when  she  was  laid  away  to  rest  in  the  chapel  at  Edstowe  Nunnery,  he 
kept  her  grave  bright  with  lights  and 
sweet  with  flowers.  The  story  of  her 
being  poisoned  by  Queen  Eleanor  is 
a  fiction,  although  it  is  said  the  Queen 
discovered  her  place  of  concealment, 
and  administered  to  her  a  severe  re- 
proof. 

The  atmosphere  of  learning  dis- 
pels superstition,  but  history  clings 
fondly  to  the  fine  old  legends  of  the 
past  that  gather  around  them  unreal 


A    STUDIOUS    MONK. 


158       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


lights  and  shadows.  It  is  not  strange  that  Oxford,  the  quiet  valley 
town,  hidden  even  to  the  bases  of  its  pinnacles,  spires,  and  towers 
in  ancient  groves,  through  which  glide  the  waters  of  the  Thames, 
should  still  preserve  traditions  of  the  wonder-working  gifts  of  its 
early  philosophers,  whom  ignorance  associated  with  the  magical  arts 
and  regarded  as  more  than  men. 

It  is  related  that  two  old  Oxford  monks  made  a  head  of  brass  that 
spoke. 

These  wise  monks  dis- 
covered from  their  wonder- 
ful books  (the  like  of  which 
are  not  now  to  be  found  in 
any  of  the  twenty  colleges) 
that  if  they  were  able  to 
make  a  head  of  brass  that 
could  speak,  and  if  they 
could  hear  it  speak  within  a 
month,  they  would  be  given 
the  power  to  surround  Eng- 
land with  a  magic  wall  of 
brass. 

So  they  studied  their 
folios,  and  found  out  the 
chemistry  of  making  the 
wonderful  head. 

They  listened  to  hear  it 
three  weeks,  and  then  became  irresistibly  sleepy.  So  they  intrusted 
a  servant  to  listen,  and  to  wake  them  if  the  statue  should  begin  to 
speak. 

When  they  were  well  asleep,  the  head  said,  — 
"  Time  is." 
Then  it  said,  — 


AN    OLD    TIME    STUDENT. 


A    VISIT  TO   OXFORD  AND    WOODSTOCK.  159 

"  Time  was." 

The  servant,  not  knowing  the  secret  of  the  monks,  failed  to  awake 
them  as  he  had  been  ordered  to  do,  and  down  came  the  figure  with  a 
fearful  crash ;  and  England  has  remained  without  any  other  wall  of 
brass  than  enters  into  an  Englishman's  composition  to  this  day. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

LETTERS   AND   EXCURSIONS. 

• 

AN  ENGLISH  SKYLARK.  —  LETTER  FROM  GEORGE  HOWE.  —  TOMMY'S  ACCOUNT  OF  HIS 
NOTTINGHAM  ADVENTURE.  —  GLASTONBURY  ABBEY.  —  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  ENG- 
LISH CHURCH.  —  ST.  JOSEPH  OF  ARIMATH^EA  AND  THE  GLASTOXBURY  THORN.  — 
STORY  OF  ST.  DUNSTAN  AND  THE  DEVIL. 

•ASTER    LEWIS   set  apart  a  day  at   Oxford  for   leisure, 
writing,  and  rest. 

In  the  morning,  after  breakfast,  the  Class  took  a  walk 
to  the  suburbs,  and  rested  on  some  wayside  seats  over- 
looking the  Thames. 

It  was  a  beautiful  morning,  cool  and  still.  The  world  of  sunlight 
all  seemed  to  be  above  the  trees,  an  over-sea  of  gold,  of  which  the  long 
arcades  of  intermingling  boughs  afforded  but  glimpses. 

Near  the  wayside  resting-place  was  a  field  bordered  with  trees.  A 
speck  of  a  bird  rose  from  it  out  of  the  grass  uttering  a  few  notes  that 
attracted  the  boys'  attention.  Up,  up  it  went  like  a  rocket,  and  as 
it  rose  higher  and  higher  its  song  became  sweeter  and  sweeter,  —  a 
happy,  trilling  melody,  which  made  every  boy  leap  to  his  feet,  and  try 
to  find  a  place  where  he  could  see  it  through  the  openings  in  the 
trees. 

"  The  bird  seems  to  have  gone  straight  up  to  heaven,"  said  Wyllys 
Wynn.  "  I  can  hardly  see  it ;  but  I  can  hear  its  melody  yet." 

"  That  is  an  English  skylark,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  so  famous  in 
pastoral  poetry.  You  now  understand  Tennyson's  meaning  when  he 
says,  — 

"  '  The  lark  becomes  a  sightless  som:.' 


LETTERS  AND  EXCURSIONS.  l6l 

I  am  glad  you  have  seen  it.  I  wish  we  might  see  more  of  common 
sights  and  scenes. 

"  I  have  here  a  letter  from  George  Howe  and  Leander  Towle, 
which  greatly  pleases  me.  My  object  is  to  take  you  to  historic  scenes. 
George  and  Leander  have  different  tastes  from  yours,  and  expect  to 
follow  different  occupations.  They  are  making  their  journey  a  study 
of  common  life  and  its  pursuits,  as  I  would  have  them  do." 

"  Will  you  not  read  their  letter  to  us  ?  "  asked  Ernest. 

"  That  was  just  what  I  was  about  to  do,"  said  Master  Lewis. 

CAEN,  NORMANDY,  July. 
DEAR  TEACHER: — 

I  begin  my  letter  here  in  this  city,  which  I  suppose  has  an  atmosphere  of 
old  history,  but  which  is  interesting  to  me  because  it  is  the  centre  of  the  "  food- 
producing  land  "  of  France,  as  Lower  Normandy  is  well  called.  All  of  this  part 
of  the  country  through  which  I  have  passed  is  a  scene  of  thrift,  productiveness, 
and  plenty.  The  people  are  all  busy  and  happy.  Occupied  minds  are  always 
happy,  I  believe. 

How  did  we  get  here? 

We  rode  a  part  of  the  way  to  London  on  what  is  called,  I  think,  Parlia- 
mentary trains.  This  is  not  a  train  of  grand  coaches  for  the  use  of  members 
of  Parliament,  but  a  sort  of  slow-coach  train  which  Parliament  has  enacted  shall 
carry  cattle,  produce,  and  commercial  necessities  for  a  fixed  rate  a  mile.  Or 
this  is  the  way  in  which  the  running  of  these  cheap  trains  was  explained  to  me. 

It  would  have  been  a  hard  ride,  had  not  new  scenes  been  continually  coming 
into  view,  and  the  train  have  gone  so  slowly  that  we  were  enabled  to  enjoy  them 
almost  as  well  as  though  we  had  been  riding  on  an  English  stage-coach.  I  was 
so  interested  in  the  new  objects  that  presented  themselves  that  I  entirely  forgot 
the  manner  of  conveyance. 

I  shall  never  forget  that  ride :   it  was  like  viewing  a  long  panorama. 

It  cost  me  only  about  £\  or  $5.00,  to  travel  from  Scotland  to  London. 

We  took  a  lodging  room  in  London  which  cost  us  a  shilling  a  night 
apiece.  While  in  London  I  visited  the  Tower,  Westminster  Abbey,  Windsor, 
and  the  principal  Parks.  The  half  day  spent  in  Westminster  Abbey  was  worth 
all  the  discomforts  of  the  journey  across  the  sea. 

We  also  made  a  journey  to  Sydenham  Crystal  Palace,  —  an  immense  museum 
of  novelties,  to  which  the  admission  is  only  one  shilling.  It  is  probably  the  first 


1 62       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


palace  ever  built  for  the  people,  and  I  like  the  idea  of  a  people's  palace  better 
than  a  king's.  It  occupies  with  its  grounds  about  three  hundred  acres,  and 
cost  nearly  .£2,000,000.  Twenty-five  acres  of  glass  were  used  in  its  construc- 
tion. The  museum  is  full  of  the  products  of  industry  of  all  countries  and  times. 
Think  of  it  —  all  for  one  shilling  !  It  is  a  thing  to  make  one  always  respect  the 
English  people. 

I  need  say  very  little  of  the  tombs  of  the  twenty  or  thirty  kings  and  queens  in 
Westminster  Abbey.  I  was  first  impressed  with  the  value  of  fame  when  I  read 
inscriptions  to  persons  once  famous  of  whom  I  never  heard,  —  Thomas  Shad- 
well,  Poet  Laureate  in  the  Court  of  William  III.;  Mrs.  Oldfield,  whom  we  are 
told  was  buried  "  in  a  fine  Brussels  lace  head-dress,"  —  and  I  thought,  Well,  all 
men  can  do  is  to  perform  their  duty,  and  time  will  one  day  make  forgotten 
Thomas  Shadwells  and  Mrs.  Oldfields  of  them  all. 

While  in  London  I  made  also  a  pleasant  excursion  into  Berkshire,  and  there 
I  saw  the  famous  White-Horse  Hill.  It  is  said  that  the  figure  of  the  White 
Horse  on  the  hill  was  first  made  by  Alfred  the  Great  a  thousand  years  ago, 

to  commemorate  the  defeat  of  the 
Danes,  —  the  White  Horse  being  the 
standard  or  national  emblem  of  the 
Danish  chief.  Whatever  may  have 
been  its  origin,  it  is  now  made  by  an- 
nually cutting  about  an  acre  of  turf 
away  from  the  chalk  beneath  it.  This 
work  is  performed  during  a  festival  in 
its  honor,  and  is  called  "  Scouring  the 
White  Horse." 

While  in  Berkshire  I  saw  an  odd 
picture,  not  of  a  castle,  but  of  an  old 
English  gentleman's  residence,  which 
was  truly  castle-like  in  appearance, 
and  which  furnishes  a  happy  sugges- 
tion to  people  who  do  not  like  to 
live  long  in  any  one  place.  It  was  a 
tun  on  wheels,  and  it  had  been  used 
by  an  over-taxed  and  indignant  dem- 
ocrat for  the  purpose  of  having  no 
fixed  locality,  and  so  to  avoid  assess- 
ment. 


LETTERS  AND   EXCURSIONS. 


163 


In  London  I  made  a  study  of  the  cheapest  way  of  getting  to  Paris,  and  of 
seeing  the  most  on  the  journey.  I  found  I  could  take  a  returning  produce  boat 
at  Southampton  for  Lower  Normandy  at  a  trifling  cost,  and  could  go  on  a 
produce  train  from  Caen  to  Paris  as  inexpensively. 

We  took  a  third-class  ticket  to  Southampton.  What  a  delightful  ride  it 
was !  Out  of  the  smoke  of  London  into  the  blossoming  country,  among  land- 
scapes of  cottages  and  gardens,  —  thatched  cottages,  cottages  covered  with  old 
red  tiles,  cottages  whose  gardens  seemed  to  climb  up  embankments  to  the 
roofs ;  past  wheat  fields  so  full  of  poppies  that  they  seemed  like  poppy-fields 
in  full  bloom  !  I  saw  one  field 
completely  covered  with  red, 
purple,  yellow,  and  white  pop- 
pies. It  was  an  exquisitely 
beautiful  sight,  —  nothing  but 
bright  color. 

The  steamer  we  took  was 
employed  simply  for  the  ex- 
portation of  Normandy  butter, 
potatoes,  and  other  farm  prod- 
uce. It  comes  to  England 
loaded,  and  goes  back  empty. 
I  obtained  passage  for  10  francs, 
and  what  I  saved  by  travel  on 
the  water  I  intended  to  make  up 
by  a  longer  trip  by  land. 

We  were  much  tossed  about 
by  the  tides  of  the  English 
Channel,  but  arrived  safely  at 
Cherbourg,  and  went  by  rail 
immediately  to  Bayeux,  a 
dreamy,  ecclesiastical  city  that 
the  battles  of  the  past  seem 
to  have  left  in  strange  silence. 
I  spoke  at  the  beginning  of  my  FAC-SIMILE  OF  THE  BAYEUX  TAPESTRY. 

letter  of  the  activity  and  thrift  of  Lower  Normandy,  but  Bayeux  is  the  stillest 
city  I  ever  saw. 

Here,  in  the  Public  Library,  we  saw  the  famous  Bayeux  Tapestry,  which  is 
displayed  under  a  glass  case ;  is  two  hundred  and  fourteen  feet  long  and  con- 
tains over  fifteen  hundred  figures.  The  canvas  is  embroidered  in  woollen  thread 


1 64      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OK,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

of  various  colors,  the  work  of  Matilda  and  her  maids.     I  make  a  copy  from  a 

sample  picture  of  the  exact  size  of  the  thread  used. 

One  may  read  on  this  fabric  the  history  of  the 
Norman  Conquest  of  England.     It  is  the  most  novel 
work  of  history  I  ever  saw. 

The  farming  districts  of  Normandy  seem  indeed  like  Arcadia:  farmers 
mean  business  here,  and  thrive  by  thrift.  Their  sons  and  daughters,  I  am  told, 
do  not  run  off  to  the  city.  I  have  never  seen  a  people  whose  habits  I  like  so 
well. 

Give  our  regards  to  all.  GEORGE  HOWE. 

P.  S.  We  are  on  our  way  to  Paris,  riding  through  a  country  of  old 
churches,  castles,  and  flowers,  on  a  produce  train. 

"  I  think,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  that  George  and  Leander  are,  after 
all,  making  a  very  delightful  tour;  they  certainly  are  getting  better 
views  of  common,  practical  life  abroad  than  we  are.  I  am  glad  that 
they  had  the  independence  to  make  the  journey  in  this  way." 

"  How  much  do  you  think  their  whole  tour  will  cost  them  ? "  asked 
Ernest. 

"  It  will  cost  each  of  them  less  than  either  you  or  I  have  paid  for 
a  single  ocean  passage,"  said  Master  Lewis. 

The  boys  spent  the  afternoon  in  letter-writing. 

Tommy  Toby  wrote  a  long  letter  to  George  Howe. 

"  I  have  taken  George  into  my  confidence,"  said  he,  after  tea,  as 
Master  Lewis  and  the  boys  were  sitting  by  the  open  windows  of  the 
hotel,  "  and  have  given  him  an  account  of  my  hunting  adventure  in 
Nottingham." 

"  Suppose  you  read  the  letter  to  us,"  said  Master  Lewis. 

Tommy,  whose  nature  would  not  allow  him  to  keep  a  secret  long, 
however  disparaging  to  himself,  seemed  pleased  to  accept  Master 

Lewis's  suggestion. 

OXFORD,  July. 
DEAR  GEORGE : — 

We  are  all  pleased  with  the  trip  you  are  making. 

We  have  been  to  lots  of  curious  places,  —  dust  heaps  of  old  kings  and 
queens,  and  we  have  heard  a  lark  sing. 


LETTERS  AND  EXCURSIONS.  165 

At  Nottingham  I  bought  a  bow  and  arrows,  and  went  hunting.  Like  you, 
I  wanted  to  see  the  country. 

I  saw  it. 

They  are  very  inquisitive  people  around  Nottingham.  They  seem  to  want 
to  know  your  business  before  you  are  introduced. 

A  little  way  out  of  the  city  I  came  to  a  fine  old  tract  of  country.  A  gate 
opened  into  some  large,  hilly  fields,  and  there  was  a  path  through  the  fields  that 
seemed  to  lead  to  the  wood. 

I  opened  the  gate  and  was  going  towards  the  wood,  when  I  heard  a  voice 
from  the  road, — 

"Boy!" 

I  looked  around,  and  made  no  answer. 

"  Where  are  yer  going,  yer  honor  ?  " 

11 1  am  going  hunting,"  said  I ;  and  I  walked  on  very  fast. 

I  came  to  a  wooded  hill,  and  the  scenery  all  around  was  delightful,  just  like 
a  picture.  Below  the  hill  was  a  long  pasture,  and  through  it  ran  a  stream  of 
water  overhung  with  old  trees.  Under  the  trees  were  some  cattle. 

I  was  going  down  towards  the  pasture  when  I  heard  a  very  distressing 
noise,  — 

O-o-o-o-o ! 

"  This  is  an  English  landscape,"  said  I  to  myself.  "  How  much  more  lovely 
it  is  than  castles,  abbeys,  and  tombs !  "  and  I  was  trying  to  think  of  some 
poetry,  such  as  Frank  would  have  quoted,  when  I  heard  that  alarming  sound 
again, — 

O-o-o-o-o ! 

I  noticed  that  one  of  the  fine  animals  had  separated  himself  from  the  rest  of 
the  herd  by  the  shady  brook,  and  was  coming  out  to  meet  me,  looking  very 
important.  Presently  he  put  down  his  head,  gave  the  earth  a  scrape  with  his 
foot,  and  then  came  jumping  towards  me,  bounding  and  plunging  over  the 
hillocks,  like  a  ship  on  a  heavy  sea. 

I  turned  right  around,  just  as  I  did  when  I  saw  the  bear,  and  I  remembered 
that  Master  Lewis  might  not  like  to  have  me  venture  too  far  in  my  first  hunting 
expedition. 

I  ran!  didn't  I  run?  I  soon  heard  the  same  deep  sound  again,  "nearer, 
clearer,  deadlier  than  before,"  as  the  reading  book  says. 

I  had  almost  regained  the  top  of  the  hill,  when  the  animal  bellowed  almost 
right  behind  me.  There  was  a  tree  close  by,  and  I  went  up.  It  was  just  as 
easy  for  me  to  climb  it  as  though  it  had  been  a  ladder. 

The  animal  bounded  up  the  hill,  and  stood  under  the  tree,  pawing  the  earth 
and  making  the  same  hollow  noise. 


1 66      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

I  drew  my  bow,  and  let  fly  an  arrow  at  him. 

"  Boy,  come  down !  " 

There  was  a  thick,  fat  man,  with  a  great  stomach,  coming  up  the  hill.  He 
appeared  greatly  excited,  and  quite  out  of  breath.  He  presently  arrived  at  the 
foot  of  the  tree. 

"  Boy,  bring  me  that  bow  and  arrow." 

I  came  down  the  tree  more  scared  at  the  man  than  I  was  at  the  animal.  I 
handed  him  the  bow,  and  what  do  you  think  he  did  with  it? 

He  gave  me  a  dreadful  cut  across  my  back,  and  said,  — 

"  Where  'd  yer  come  from  ?  Take  that  and  THAT,  and  THAT,  and  don't  yer 
ever  trespass  on  my  grounds  again." 

I  promised  him  I  never  would. 

I  walked  just  as  fast  as  I  could  towards  the  gate,  and  when  I  came  to  the 
road  I  was  so  flustrated  that  I  went  the  wrong  way,  and  wandered  about  in  the 
heat  for  hours  before  I  could  get  rightly  directed  towards  Nottingham. 

I  wish  you  were  with  us  at  Oxford ;  it  seems  to  me  the  most  beautiful  place 
in  all  the  world. 

It  was  here  we  heard  the  skylark  sing.  TOMMY. 

The  next  journey  of  the  Club  was  indeed  en  zigzag. 

"  I  have  allowed  you  to  visit,"  said  Master  Lewis  to  the  boys,  "  the 
places  to  which  your  reading  has  led  your  curiosity,  most  of  which 
places  I  have  visited  before.  I  now  wish  to  take  you  to  a  ruin  that  I 
have  never  seen,  and  of  which  you  may  have  never  heard.  It  is  the 
place  where,  according  to  tradition,  Christianity  was  first  established 
in  Great  Britain ;  where  St.  Patrick  is  said  to  have  preached,  and  where 
he  was  buried.  It  is  the  place  which  poetry  associates  with  the 
mission  and  miracles  of  Joseph  of  Arimathaea ;  here  his  staff,  in  the 
shape  of  the  white  thorn,  is  said  to  blossom  every  Christmas." 

"  Glastonbury  Abbey,"  said  Ernest  Wynn.  "  Of  course  there  can 
be  no  truth  in  the  tradition  of  Joseph  of  Arimathaea  and  the  White 
Thorn  ? " 

"  The  story  of  Joseph's  mission  to  England,  his  burial  here,  and 
his  blooming  staff,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  is  undoubtedly  a  fiction,  like 
the  legend  which  claims  that  the  stone  in  the  old  Scottish  Coronation 


LETTERS  AND  EXCURSIONS.  167 

Chair  in  Westminster  Abbey  is  the  one  on  which  Jacob  rested  when 
he  saw  the  vision  of  angels.  But  Glastonbury  Abbey  was  possibly 
the  first  Church  in  England.  Here  were  the  monuments  of  King 
Arthur,  King  Edmund,  and  King  Edgar;  and  even  old  King  Coel. 
St.  David,  and  St.  Dunstan  are  said  to  have  been  buried  here." 

"What!  the  St.  Dunstan  that  the  devil  tried  to  tempt?"  asked 
Tommy. 

"  The  St.  Dunstan  that  the  devil  did  tempt,  I  fear,"  said  Master 
Lewis. 

"  I  would  like  to  hear  the  story  of  his  temptations,"  said  Tommy, 
"  as  we  are  going  to  Giastonbury." 

THE   STORY  OF   ST.   DUNSTAN'S   TEMPTATION. 

"  St.  Dunstan,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  was  Abbot  of  Glastonbury 
Abbey,  and  was  a  very  ambitious  man. 

"  He  caused  a  cell  to  be  made  in  which  he  could  neither  stand 
erect  nor  lie  down  with  comfort.  He  retired  to  this  cell  and  there 
spent  his  time  in  working  as  a  smith,  and  —  so  the  report  went  —  in 
devotion. 

"Then  the  people  said,  'How  humble  and  penitent  Dunstan  is! 
He  has  the  back-ache  all  day,  and  the  legs-ache  all  night,  and  he  suffers 
all  for  the  cause  of  purity  and  truth.' 

"  Then  Dunstan  told  the  people  that  the  devil  came  to  tempt  him, 
which,  with  his  aches  for  the  good  cause,  made  his  situation  very  trying. 

"  The  devil,  he  said,  wanted  him  to  lead  a  life  of  selfish  gratifi- 
cation, but  he  would  not  be  tempted  to  do  a  thing  like  that ;  he  never 
thought  of  himself.  O  no,  good  soul,  not  he ! 

"  The  people  said  that  Dunstan  must  have  become  a  very  holy 
man,  or  the  devil  would  not  appear  to  him  bodily. 

"  The  devil  came  to  him  one  day,  he  said,  as  he  was  at  work  at  his 
forge,  and,  putting  his  nose  through  the  window  of  his  cell,  tempted 


1 68       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

him  to  lead  a  life  of  pleasure.  He  quickly  drew  his  pincers  from  the 
fire,  and  seized  his  tormentor  by  the  nose,  which  put  him  in  such  pain 
that  he  bellowed  so  lustily  as  to  shake  the  hills. 

"  The  boy-king  Edred,  who  filled  the  throne  at  this  time,  was  in 
poor  health,  and  suffered  from  a  lingering  illness  for  years.  He  felt 
the  need  of  the  counsel  of  a  good  man,  and  he  said  to  himself,  — 

"  *  There  is  Dunstan,  a  man  who  has  given  up  all  selfish  feelings 
and  aspirations,  a  man  whom  even  the  devil  cannot  corrupt.  I  will 
bring  him  to  court,  and  will  make  him  my  adviser.' 

"Then  pure-hearted  Edred  brought  the  foxy  prelate  to  his  court, 
and  made  him.  of  all  things  in  the  world,  the  royal  treasurer ;  and  he 
took  such  good  care  of  the  money  entrusted  to  his  keeping  that  he 
was  speedily  released  from  the  responsibility.  He  seems  to  have  been 
very  easily  tempted  during  his  political  career." 

The  next  day  the  party  was  borne  away  from  shady  Oxford, 
where  one  would  indeed  like  to  tarry  long  in  the  midsummer  days,  to 
the  old  city  of  Bristol,  famous  in  the  Roman  conquest  of  Britain.  In 
the  journey  the  gay  poppy-fields  and  the  picturesque  cottage  scenes, 
which  give  a  charm  to  the  English  landscape,  often  flitted  into  and  out 
of  view,  reminding  the  boys  of  George  Howe's  letter. 

Glastonbury  Abbey  is  indeed  an  interesting  ruin.  It  stands 
apart  from  the  popular  lines  of  travel,  and  so  it  figures  little  in  the 
narratives  of  those  who  make  short  tours  abroad. 

Think  of  the  ruins  of  a  church  at  least  fourteen  hundred  years 
old !  A  church  that  Joseph  of  Arimathaea,  who  provided  the  tomb 
for  Jesus,  is  reputed  in  the  old  monkish  legends  to  have  founded,  and 
where  St.  Patrick  and  St.  Augustine  probably  did  preach,  and  where 
in  the  Middle  Ages  the  remains  of  good  King  Arthur  were  disen- 
terred ! 

Of  the  great  church  and  its  five  chapels  there  yet  remain  parts  of  the 
broken  wall,  and  the  three  large  crypts  where  the  early  kings  of  England 
and  founders  of  the  English  Church  were  buried.  A  little  westward 


ST.  AUGUSTINE'S  APPEAL  TO  ETHELBERT 


LETTERS  AND  EXCURSIONS. 


171 


from    the    ruin    stands    the    beautiful    Chapel    of   St.  Joseph  of  Ari- 
mathaea. 

"  I  do  not  wonder,"  said  Wyllys  Wynn,  "  that  the  old  English 
people  liked  to  believe  that  their  church  sprang  from  the  mission  of 
so  amiable  a  saint  as  St.  Joseph." 

"  Christianity,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  was  really  first  established  in 
Great  Britain  in  596  by  St.  Augustine  and  forty  missionaries  who 
came  with  St.  Augustine 
from  Rome  to  preach  to  the 
Anglo-Saxons.  These  mis- 
sionaries were  kindly  re- 
ceived by  King  Ethelbert, 
whose  wife  was  already  a 
Christian.  It  is  related  that 
one  of  the  Saxon  priests,  to 
see  if  indeed  his  gods  would 
be  angry,  went  forth  on 
horse-back,  and  smote  the 
images  the  people  had  been 
worshipping.  To  the  aston- 
ishment of  the  Saxons  no 
judgment  followed.  The 
king  was  baptized,  and  the 
missionaries  baptized  ten 
thousand  converts  in  a  single  f 
day  in  the  river  Swale. 
The  Christian  religion  had 
been  preached  in  Britain  be-  THE  SAXON  PRIEST  STRIKING  THE  IMAGES- 
fore,  but  not  generally  accepted." 

"  I  like  the  association  of  St.  Joseph's  name  with  this  old  ruin  so 
well,"  said  Wyllys,  "  that  I  wish  to  see  the  staff  that  you  say  is  believed 
to  bloom  at  Christmas." 


172       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

On  the  south  side  of  Glastonbury  is  Weary-all  Hill.  It  owes  its 
name  to  a  very  poetic  legend.  It  is  said  that  St.  Joseph  and  his  com- 
panions, all  of  them  weary  in  one  of  their  missionary  journeys,  here 
sat  down  to  rest,  and  the  Saint  planted  his  staff  into  the  earth,  and 
left  it  there.  From  it,  we  are  told,  springs  the  famous  Glastonbury 
Thorn  which  blossoms  every  Christmas,  and  whose  miraculous  flowers 
were  adored  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Such  a  shrub  still  remains  which 
blooms  in  midwinter,  and  perpetuates  the  memory  of  the  pretty 
superstition. 


CHAPTER   XII. 


LONDON. 

LONDON.  —  WESTMINSTER  ABBEY. — WESTMINSTER  HALL  AND  PARLIAMENT  HOUSES.— 
THE  TOWER.  —  SIR  HENRY  WYATT  AND  HIS  CAT.  —  MADAME  TUSSAUD'S  WAX 
WORKS.  —  TOMMY  ACCOSTS  A  STRANGER.  —  HAMPTON  COURT  PALACE.  —  STORIES 
OF  CHARLES  I.  AND  CROMWELL.  —  THE  DUCHESS'S  WONDERFUL  PIE.  —  THE  BOYS' 
DAY.  —  TOMMY  GOES  PUNCH  AND  JUDY  HUNTING.  —  STREET  AMUSEMENTS.  — 
TOMMY'S  MISADVENTURE.  —  GEORGE  HOWE'S  CHEAP  TOUR.  —  WINDSOR  CASTLE. — 
1  STORY  OF  PRINCE  ALBERT  AND  HIS  QUEEN.  —  ANTWERP. 

HE  train,  from  its  sinuous  windings  among  old  English  land- 
scapes and  thickly  populated  towns,  seemed  at  last  to  be 


gliding  into  a  new  world  of  vanishing  houses  and  streets. 
It  suddenly  stopped  under  the  glass  roof  of  an  immense 
station,  where  a  regiment  of  porters  in  uniform  were  awaiting  it,  and 
where  all  outside  seemed  a  world  of  cabmen. 

LONDON  !  —  the  world's  great  city,  the  nations'  bazaar,  —  where  hu- 
manity runs  in  no  fixed  channels,  but  ceaselessly  ebbs  and  flows  like 
the  sea.  Cabs,  cabs !  then  a  swift  rattle  through  rattling  vehicles, 
going  in  every  direction,  on,  on,  on  !  Names  of  places  read  in  histo- 
ries and  story-books  pass  before  the  eye.  The  tides  of  travel  every- 
where seem  to  overflow ;  all  is  bewildering,  confusing.  What  a  map 
a  man's  mind  must  be  to  thread  the  innumerable  streets  of  London ! 

The  Class  stopped  at  a  popular  hotel  in  a  fine  part  of  the  city, 
called  the  West  End.  It  is  pleasanter  and  more  economical  to  take 
furnished  lodgings  in  London,  if  one  is  to  remain  in  the  city  for  a 
week  or  more,  but  as  Master  Lewis  was  to  allow  the  boys  but  a  few 
days'  visit,  he  took  them  to  a  hotel  in  a  quarter  where  the  best  London 
life  could  be  seen. 


174       ZIGZAG  JOURWEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

The   London  cabs  meet  the  impatient  stranger's  wants  at  once, 
and  the  boys  were  soon  rattling  in  them  about  the  city,  out  of  the 


WESTMINSTER    ABBEY. 


quarter  of  stately  houses  into  the  gay  streets  of  trade,  which  seemed 
to  them  indeed  like  a  great  world's  fair. 


LONDON.  175 

"  This  is  Pall  Mall  [Pell  Mell],"  said  Frank  to  Tommy,  as  their 
cab  rounded  a  corner. 

"  It  seems  to  be  all  pell  mell  here,"  said  Tommy.  "  Had  the  poet 
been  to  London  when  he  wrote,  — 

"  '  Oh,  then  and  there  was  hurrying  to  and  fro  '  ? 

But  this  street  has  a  more  quiet  look.     What  splendid  houses ! " 

"  Those,"  said  Frank,  "  are  the  houses  of  the  famous  London 
Clubs." 

The  first  visit  that  the  boys  made  was  to  that  time-honored  pile  of 
magnificence  into  which  kings  and  queens  for  centuries  have  gone  to 
be  crowned  and  been  carried  to  be  buried,  —  Westminster  Abbey. 

The  party  entered  at  the  western  entrance,  which  commands  an 
awesome,  almost  oppressive,  view  of  the  interior.  In  the  softened 
light  of  the  stained  windows  rose  a  forest  of  columns,  rich  with  art 
and  grandly  gloomy  with  the  associations  of  antiquity.  Far,  far  away 
it  stretched  to  the  chapel  of  Edward  the  Confessor,  a  name  that  led 
the  mind  through  the  faded  pomps  of  the  past  almost  a  thousand 
years. 

Monuments  of  kings  and  queens,  benefactors  and  poets,  beginning 
with  old  Edward  the  Confessor  and  coming  down  to  the  Stuarts; 
of  Eleanor,  who  sucked  the  poison  from  her  husband's  wounds,  and 
Philippa,  who  saved  the  heroes  of  Calais.  Here  Bloody  Mary,  Queen 
Elizabeth,  and  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  sleep  in  peace  in  the  same 
chapel ;  and  here  the  merry  monarch,  Charles  II.,  lies  among  the  kingly 
tombs  without  a  slab  to  mark  the  place. 

The  new  Houses  of  Parliament  which  stand  between  the  Abbey 
and  the  Thames  are  the  finest  works  of  architecture  that  have  been 
erected  in  England  for  centuries.  They  form  a  parallelogram  nine 
hundred  feet  long  and  three  hundred  feet  wide.  The  House  of  Lords 
and  House  of  Commons  occupy  the  centre  of  the  building.  Between 
these  two  halls  of  State  rises  a  tower  three  hundred  feet  high.  At 
each  end  of  the  building  are  lofty  towers;  the  Victorian  Tower,  three 


176       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

hundred  forty-six  feet  high,  and  a  clock  tower,  in  which  the  hours  are 
struck  on  a  bell  called  Big  Ben,  which  weighs  nine  tons. 

The  entrance  to  the  Houses  of  Parliament  is  through  old  West- 
minster Hall,  ninety  feet  high  and  two  hundred  and  ninety  long,  whose 
gothic  roof  of  wood  is  the  finest  specimen  of  its  kind  in  English  art, 
and  is  regarded  as  one  of  the  wonders  of  human  achievement. 

It  was  in  this  hall  that  Charles  I.  was  tried  for  treason,  and  con- 
demned ;  and  it  was  here,  at  the  trial,  that  the  words  of  a  mysterious 
lady  smote  Oliver  Cromwell  to  the  heart. 

"  The  Prisoner  at  the  bar  has  been  brought  here  in  the  name  of 
the  People  of  England,"  said  the  solicitor. 

"  Not  half  the  people  !  "  exclaimed  a  mysterious  voice  in  the  gallery. 
"  Oliver  Cromwell  is  a  traitor  /" 

The  assembly  shuddered. 

"  Fire  upon  her !  "  said  an  officer. 

They  did  not  fire.     It  was  Lady  Fairfax. 

Westminster  Bridge,  one  thousand  one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  long, 
is  near  the  clock  tower,  and  here  the  Class  took  its  best  view  of  the 
Parliament  Houses. 

The  next  day  the  Class  visited  London  Tower  and  the  relics  that 
recall  the  long  list  of  tragedies  of  ambitious  courts  and  kings. 

"  This,"  said  the  guide,  as  the  Class  was  taken  into  an  apartment 
in  the  White  Tower,  an  old  prison  whose  walls  are  twelve  feet  thick, 
"  is  the  beheading  block  that  was  used  on  Tower  Hill.  The  Earl  of 
Essex  was  beheaded  on  it :  see  the  dints ! " 

An  axe  stood  beside  the  block,  which  is  kept  on  exhibition  in  one 
of  the  rooms  in  which  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  was  confined. 

"  Where  were  the  children  of  Edward  murdered  ? "  asked  Frank 
Gray,  after  being  shown  the  place  of  the  execution  of  Anne  Boleyn. 

"  In  the  Bloody  Tower,"  said  the  guide.  "  I  am  not  hallowed  to 
admit  visitors  into  that." 

"  We  are  a  class  in  an  American  school.  Could  you  not  make  some 
arrangement  to  admit  us  ?  "  asked  Wyllys. 


TRIAL  OF  CHARLES  I. 


LONDON.  1 79 

The  guide  left  the  party  a  few  minutes,  and  then  returned  with  a 
bunch  of  keys. 

He  led  the  way  to  a  small  room  in  which  the  little  sons  of  Edward 
had  been  lodged,  to  be  accessible  to  the  murderers.  Here  the  unhappy 
children  were  smothered  in  bed.  The  room,  apart  from  its  dreadful 
associations,  was  a  pleasant  one  looking  out  on  the  Thames. 

The  party  was  next  shown  the  stairs  at  the  foot  of  which  the 
remains  of  the  princes  were  discovered. 

"  I  can  imagine,"  said  Ernest  Wynn,  "  the  life  of  the  boys  in  the 
Tower.  How  they  went  from  window  to  window  and  looked  out  on 
the  Thames,  the  sunlight,  and  the  sky  as  we  do  now;  how  they  saw 
the  bright,  happy  faces  pass,  and  children  in  the  distance  at  play ;  how 
they  watched,  it  may  be,  the  lights  in  their  dead  father's  palace  at 
night,  and  how  they  wondered  why  the  freedom  of  the  gay  world 
beyond  the  prison  was  denied  them.  It  is  said  that  an  old  man  who 
loved  them  used  to  play  on  some  instrument  in  the  evening  under  the 
walls  of  the  Tower,  and  thus  express  to  them  his  sympathy  which  he 
could  not  do  in  words." 

"The  burial  of  Richard  III.,  who  caused  the  death  of  the  royal 
children,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  was  almost  as  pitiful  as  that  of  the 
princes  themselves.  After  the  fatal  battle,  his  naked  body  was  thrown 
upon  a  sorry  steed  and  carried  over  the  bridge  to  Leicester  amid 
derision  and  scorn.  For  two  hot  summer  days  it  was  exposed  to  the 
jeers  of  the  mob,  and  then  was  laid  in  a  tomb  costing  ^10  is.,  to  rest 
fifty  years.  The  tomb  was  dashed  in  pieces  during  the  Reformation, 
the  bones  thrown  into  the  river  and  the  stone  coffin,  according  to 
tradition,  used  as  a  horse-trough." 

The  collection  of  armor  in  an  apartment  of  the  Tower  called  the 
Horse  Armory,  a  building  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long,  pre- 
sented a  spectacle  that  filled  our  visitors  with  wonder.  It  seemed  like 
a  sudden  reproduction  of  the  faded  days  of  chivalry.  On  each  side 
of  the  room  was  a  row  of  knights  in  armor,  in  different  attitudes,  look- 


l8o       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

ing  as  though  they  were  real  knights  under  some  spell  of  enchantment, 
waiting  for  the  magic  word  to  start  them  into  life  again. 

The  Jewel  Tower  did  not  so  much  excite  the  boys'  astonishment 
It  was  like  a  costumer's  shop ;  and  even  the  royal  crown  of  England 
wore  an  almost  ridiculous  look,  civilization  and  republican  progress 
have  so  far  outgrown  these  theatrical  playthings.  The  Queen's 


BURIAL    OF    RICHARD. 


diadem,  as  it  is  called,  was  indeed  a  glitter  of  diamonds,  and  the  royal 
sceptres  of  various  devices  carried  one  back  to  the  days  of  Queen 
Esther. 


LONDON.  183 

"  Among  the  stories  told  of  the  prisoners  in  the  Tower,"  said 
Master  Lewis,  "  there  is  one  that  is  pleasant  to  remember.  Sir  Henry 
Wyat  was  confined  here  in  a  dark  low  cell,  where  he  suffered  from 
cold  and  hunger.  A  cat  came  to  visit  him  at  times,  and  used  to  lie 
in  his  bosom  and  warm  him.  One  day  the  cat  caught  a  pigeon  and 
brought  it  to  him  to  eat.  The  keeper  heard  of  pussy's  devotion  to  the 
prisoner,  and  treated  him  more  kindly.  When  Wyat  was  released,  he 
became  noted  for  his  fondness  for  cats." 

Leaving  the  Tower,  the  boys  stopped  to  look  at  the  Traitor's  Gate, 
which  had  clanged  behind  so  many  illustrious  prisoners  brought  to 
the  prison  in  the  fatal  barge ;  Cranmer,  More,  Anne  Boleyn,  bad  men 
and  good  men,  how  it  swung  behind  them  all,  and  ended  even  hope ! 
With  sober  faces  the  boys  turned  away. 

The  Zoological  Gardens  in  Regent's  Park  presented  the  boys,  on 
the  day  after  their  visit  to  the  Tower,  a  more  cheerful  scene.  Who 
that  has  read  of  the  London  "  Zoo  "  has  not  wished  to  visit  it  ?  Here 
specimens  of  the  whole  animal  kingdom  may  be  seen,  and  one  wanders 
among  the  immense  cages,  artificial  ponds,  bear-pits,  enclosures  of 
tropical  animals,  reptile  dens,  feeling  as  free  and  secure  as  Adam 
appears  in  the  picture  of  Naming  the  Creation. 

Here,  unlike  a  menagerie,  the  animals  all  have  room  for  the  com- 
forts of  existence.  The  rhinoceroses  have  a  pond  in  which  to  stand 
in  the  mud,  and  the  hippopotami  may  sport  as  in  their  native  rivers. 

The  British  Museum,  with  its  Roman  sculptures,  Elgin  marbles, 
and  almost  innumerable  classic  antiquities,  and  St.  Paul's  with  its 
fifty  monuments  of  England's  heroes  and  benefactors,  presented  to  the 
Class  an  extended  view  of  the  world's  history.  Sight-seeing  became 
almost  bewildering,  and  when  it  was  asked  what  place  they  next  should 
visit,  Tommy  Toby  replied, — 

"  I  feel  as  though  I  had  seen  almost  enough." 

"  Let  us  visit  Madame  Tussaud's  wax  works,"  said  Master  Lewis. 

"  Are  they  like  Mrs.  Jarley's  *  wax  figgers  ? ' "  said  Tommy ;  "  if  so  I 
would  like  to  go.  Who  was  Madame  Tussaud  ?  " 


184      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  She  was  a  little  French  lady  who  took  casts  of  faces  of  great 
men,  sometimes  after  their  death  or  execution,  and  who  died  herself 
some  twenty  or  more  years  ago,  at  the  age  of  ninety  years." 

The  price  of  the  exhibition  was  a  shilling,  and  — 

"  For  the  Chamber  of  Horrors  a  sixpence  hextra,"  said  the  man 
admitting  the  party.  Each  one  paid  the  "  hextra  "  sixpence. 

There  were  three  hundred  figures  in  all,  supposed  to  be  exact 
representations  of  the  persons  when  living.  In  a  room  called  the 
Hall  of  Kings  were  fifty  figures  of  kings  and  queens,  reproducing  to 
the  life  these  generally  condemned  players  on  the  stage  of  English 
history. 

A  clever,  winsome  old  man  sat  on  one  of  the  benches  in  the  place, 
holding  a  programme  in  his  hand,  and  now  and  then  raising  his  head, 
as  from  studying  the  paper,  to  scrutinize  one  or  another  of  the  aston- 
ishing works  of  art. 

Tommy  sat  down  beside  the  much  interested,  benevolent-looking 
old  gentleman,  and  said,  — 

"  It  was  not  George  Wilkes  Booth  who  killed  President  Lincoln, 
it  was  — 

"  Well,  if  this  don't  cap  the  whole  !     Why,  you  are  a  '  figger,'  too." 

And  so  the  mild,  attentive-looking  old  gentleman  proved  to  be. 

The  Chamber  of  Horrors  revived  the  feeling  the  visitors  had 
felt  in  the  Tower.  It  was  a  collection  of  representations  of  crimi- 
nals. Among  the  relics  is  the  blade  of  the  guillotine  used  during  the 
Reign  of  Terror  in  France,  which  is  said  to  have  cut  off  two  thou- 
sand heads. 

Hampton  Court  Palace,  the  gift  of  Cardinal  Wolsey  to  Henry 
VIII.,  and  probably  the  most  magnificent  present  that  a  prelate  ever 
gave  a  king,  next  received  our  tourists'  attention.  The  palace  origi- 
nally consisted  of  five  courts,  only  a  part  of  which  now  remain,  but 
which  assist  the  fancy  in  stereoscoping  the  old  manorial  splendor. 
Here  Wolsey  lived  in  vice-regal  pomp,  and  had  nearly  one  thousand 


WOLSEY  SERVED   BY  NOBLES. 


LONDON. 


l87 


persons  to  do  his  house-keeping,  and  noble  lords,  on  state  occasions, 
waited  upon  him  upon  bended  knees. 

The  establishment  at  this  time  contained  fifteen  hundred  rooms. 

Edward  VI.,  the  last  of  the  boy-kings  of  England,  a  youth  noted 
for  his  piety  and  love  of  learning,  was  born  here,  and  here  spent  in 
scholarly  occupations  a  part  of  his  short  life.  Catharine  Howard,  who 


WHITEHALL. 


for  a  long  time  held  the  affections  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  who  in  his 
best  years  greatly  influenced  his  conduct  by  her  wisdom  and  accom- 
plishments, was  first  acknowledged  as  queen  here ;  and  here  also 
Henry  married  another  Catharine,  —  Catharine  Parr,  his  sixth  and  last 
wife.  Bloody  Mary  kept  Christmas  here  in  1557,  when  the  great  hall 
was  lighted  with  one  thousand  lamps. 


1 88      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC   LANDS. 

Our  visitors  found  Hampton  Court  open  to  the  public,  —  a  place  of 
rare  freedom  where  people  go  out  from  London  and  enjoy  the  grounds 
much  as  though  it  were  their  own.  It  is  in  fact  a  grand  picture 
gallery  and  a  public  garden. 

"  Wolsey  gave  this  palace  to  the  king,"  said  Master  Lewis ;  "  and 
the  king  was  sporting  in  the  palace  when  he  received  the  news  of  the 


WOLSEVS  PALACE. 


death  of  the  Cardinal,  who  was  stricken  with  a  mortal  sickness  near 
Leicester  Abbey,  soon  after  having  been  arrested  for  high  treason. 
The  sad  event  did  not  seem  to  give  the  king  the  slightest  pain.  Such 
is  the  value  of  the  presents  of  a  corrupt  friendship. 

"  Charles   I.  resided  here  at  times.     Here  he  brought  his  young 
bride  when  all  London  was  reeking  with  the  pestilence. 


LONDON. 


189 


"  Charles  .  had  three 
beautiful  children,  and  was 
fond  of  their  company. 
Once,  it  is  said,  when  he 
was  with  them  at  a  win- 
dow of  Hampton  Court 
Palace,  a  gypsy  appeared 
before  him  and  asked  for 
charity.  He  and  the  chil- 
dren laughed  at  her  gro- 
tesque appearance,  which 
angered  her,  when  she  took 
from  her  basket  a  glass 
and  held  it  up  to  the 
king.  He  looked  into  it 
and  saw  his  head  severed 
from  his  shoulders. 

"  The  king  gave  her 
money. 

"'A  dog  shall  die  in 
this  room,'  she  said,  '  and 
then  the  kingdom  which 
you  will  lose  shall  be  restored  to  your  family.' 

"  Many  years  passed ;  and  Oliver  Cromwell,  attended  by  his  faithful 
dog,  came  to  Hampton  Court  Palace  and  slept  in  this  room.  When 
he  awoke  in  the  morning,  the  dog  was  dead. 

"  '  The  kingdom  has  departed  from  me,'  he  said,  recalling  the  gypsy's 
prophecy ;  and  so  it  proved. 

"  Of  course  the  story  of  the  gypsy's  mirror  is  untrue,  but  the  legend 
is  a  part  of  the  old  romance  of  the  palace ;  and  such  poetic  incidents, 
though  false  colored  lights,  serve  to  impress  the  facts  of  history  more 
vividly  on  the  mind. 


DEATH    OF    CARDINAL    WOLSEY. 


1 90       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  This  legend  of  Charles  I.,"  continued  Master  Lewis,  "  reminds  me 
of  a  more  pleasant  story,  which  I  will  tell  you,  now  that  you  are  at  the 


CHILDREN    OF    CHARLES    I. 


palace  where  the  king  brought  his  bride  when  life  looked  so  fair  and 
promising.     I  will  call  the  story  — 

"THE   DUCHESS'S   WONDERFUL   PIE. 

"There  were  gala  days  at  Paris,  —  wedding  days.  Then  the  new 
Queen  of  England,  Henrietta  Maria,  who  had  been  married  amid 
music  and  rejoicings  and  strewings  of  flowers,  made  a  journey  to  the 
sea,  that  she  might  embark  for  England  and  see  her  new  husband  to 
whom  she  had  been  married  by  proxy.  There  were  more  rejoicings 
when  she  landed  at  Dover. 


OLIVER  CROMWELL 


LONDON. 


193 


"  It  was  the  plague  time  in  London,  so  the  gala  days  were  omitted 
there;  but  the  new  queen  had  some  magnificent  receptions  at  Bur- 
leigh-on-the-hill,  the  residence  of  the  king's  favorite,  the  Duke  of 


Buckingham. 


QUEEN    HENRIETTA     MARIA. 


194       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  There  was  one  reception  which  the  duke  gave  to  the  royal  bride 
and  bridegroom  that  was  a  surprise  and  delight.  It  was  a  banquet ; 
the  tables  were  sumptuous  and  splendid,  and  on  one  of  them  was  a  very 
large  pie,  —  as  large  as  that  is  supposed  to  be  in  which  the-four-and 
twenty  black-birds  of.  nursery-rhyme  fame  are  said  to  have  been 
concealed.  The  pie  excited  wonder,  but  the  guests  all  knew  that  it 
was  some 

"  '  Dainty  dish 
To  set  before  the  king.' 

i 

"  The  banquet  passed  gayly,  and  the  time  came  to  serve  the  wonder- 
ful pie.  The  crust  was  being  removed,  when  instead  of  four-and-twenty 
blackbirds  flying  out,  up  popped  a  little  man.  He  was  a  chipper 
little  fellow,  yet  very  polite,  and  was  armed  cap-a-pie. 

"  This  was  the  first  introduction  of  Jeffrey  Hudson  to  the  English 
king  and  queen.  The  pie  had  been  purposely  constructed  to  hold 
the  little  fellow,  who,  when  the  duchess  made  an  incision  in  his  castle 
of  paste,  shifted  his  situation  until  sufficient  room  was  made  for  his 
appearance. 

"  The  queen  expressing  herself  greatly  pleased  with  his  person  and 
manners,  the  duchess  presented  him  to  her. 

"  This  dwarf  became  very  famous  in  the  court  of  the  queen." 

The  third  day  in  London  was  given  to  the  boys  as  their  own. 
They  were  allowed  by  Master  Lewis  to  go  to  such  places  as  best 
suited  their  tastes.  The  prudent  teacher  had  adopted  this  plan  before, 
believing  that  the  boys  needed  it  to  teach  them  self-reliance. 

"  Where  will  you  go  to-day  ?  "  asked  Frank  Gray  of  Tommy. 

"  Punch-and-Judy  hunting,"  said  Tommy.  "  The  streets  of  Lon- 
don are  full  of  exhibitions ;  the  queerest  performances  you  ever  saw. 
I  have  been  wishing  some  time  .for  a  chance  to  see  sights  for  myself. 
Will  you  go  with  me  ? " 

"Punch-and-Judy  hunting?"  said  Frank,  contemptuously.  "No; 
I  am  going  to  make  an  excursion  to  Cambridge." 


LONDON. 


195 


"  Remember,"  said  Master  Lewis,  who  had  heard  Tommy's  remark, 
"  that  London  is  a  wilderness  of  streets.  You  must  not  wander  far 
from  any  principal  street.  Never  lose  sight  of  the  cabs  and  omni- 
buses." 

"  I  feel  perfectly  sure  that  I  shall  need  no  other  help  than  the 
cabman's  in  finding  my  way  back.  I  have  taken  ten  shillings  in  my 
purse  in  case  of  an  emergency." 

"  Keep  your  purse  in  your  pocket  wherever  you  find  yourself,"  said 
Master  Lewis.  "  Punch-and-Judy  crowds  have  not  the  credit  of  being 
the  most  honest  people." 

Tommy  found  the  hunting  for  street  performances  indeed  alluring. 
Every  court  and  alley  seemed  alive  with  the  most  remarkable  enter- 
tainments a  boy  could  witness. 

He  first  met  three  gro- 
tesque musicians  who  had 
gathered  around  them  an 
audience  of  admiring 
house-maids,  dilatory  mar- 
ket-people, and  unkempt 
children.  But  the  hat  for 
contributions  was  passed 
so  soon  after  he  joined 
himself  to  the  music-lov- 
ing company  that  he  at 
once  left  for  another  per- 
formance where  the  call 
for  money  might  not  be 
so  pressing.  A  fiddler 
with  three  performing 
dogs,  that  were  bedecked 


STREET    AMUSEMENTS. 


with  hats  and  ruffles,  quite 

exceeded  in  dramatic  interest  the  former  exhibition. 


But  the  fiddler, 


196       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


too,  had  immediate  need  of  money,  and  Tommy  remembered  Master 
Lewis's  caution  about  the  purse,  and  passed  on  to  a  public  place  that 
seemed  quite  alive  with  groups  of  people  gathered  around  curious 
sights  and  entertainments. 

The  pastimes  here  took  a  scientific  turn. 
Chief  among  these  street  showmen  rose  the 
tall  head  of  a  middle-aged  gentleman  — 
"  the  professor  "  —  who  administered  the 
"  galvanic  grip." 

"  Has  fast  has  yer  cured,  gentlemen,  pass 
right  along,  pass  right  along,  and  give  others 
a  chance.  'Ave  you  han  hache  or  a  pain  ? 
I  say,  ave  you  han  hache  or  a  pain  ?  Cure  ye 
right  hup,  right  hup  hin  a  minute.  I  '11  tell 
you  what,  it  is  astonishing,  gentlemen,  what 
cures  science  will  perform." 

At  this  point  some  one  not  schooled  in 
the  mysteries  of  science  received  a  very  lib- 
eral   dose    of    the    "  magnetic    grip,"    and 
STREET  AMUSEMENTS.        doubled  his  body  with  an  "  O  !  "  that  seemed 
to  be  shot  out  of  him,  when  the  crowd  laughed  and  moved  on. 

You  pay  your  five  or  ten  pence  and  are  presented  with  the  handles 
forming  the  terminations  of  the  electric  wire :  you  grasp  these  as  tight 
as  yoft  can,  one  in  either  hand,  while  the  galvanist  grinds  away  at  the 
machine. 

When  a  hundred  or  more  eyes  are  levelled  upon  you  he  suddenly 
increases  the  motion  in  a  manner  that  leaves  no  doubt  in  your  mind 
that  that  man  has  magnetism  about  him,  whether  he  be  a  "  professor  " 
or  not.  Of  course  your  rheumatism  at  once  disappears :  it  would  do 
the  same  had  you  fallen  from  the  roof  of  a  house. 

Tommy  had  a  strong  inclination  to  be  "  cured  "  by  the  "  professor 
of  galvanism,"  but  he  conscientiously  recalled  Master  Lewis's  advice 
about  the  purse. 


LONDON. 


I97 


A  man  with  a  wonderfully  bedecked  performing  monkey  was  leav- 
ing the  square,  and,  as  a  sort  of  testimony  to  the  attraction  of  his 
exhibition,  a  crowd  of  boys  and  girls  were  following  him.  Tommy 
wished  to  see  a  performance  that  had  evidently  excited  so  much 
interest,  and  he  allowed  himself  to  be  borne  along  after  the  man  in 
the  juvenile  tide.  After  passing  through  several  streets,  the  per- 
former stopped  in  an  open  court,  but  for  some  reason  was  ordered 
away.  Tommy  found  himself  left  almost  alone  in  an  antique-looking 
place,  where  there  were  in  sight  neither  omnibuses  nor  cabs. 

"  Which  is  the  way  to  Regent  Street  ? "  asked  Tommy  of  a  sad- 
looking  little  girl. 

"  Dunno,"  said  Sad  Eyes ;  "  'ave  ye  got  a  penny  ?  " 
"What  for?" 
"  For  tellin'  ye." 

Tommy  made  other  inquiries,  but  received  about  as  definite  infor- 
mation as  at  first,  and  each  person  fol- 
lowed the  unsatisfactory  answer  with, 
"  'Ave  ye  a  penny  ? "  as  though  it  was 
worth  that  trifling  amount  to  open  one's 
mouth. 

An  honest-looking  house-wife,  with- 
out bonnet  or  shawl,  came  marching 
along  the  street  with  an  air  of  friendly 
interest. 

"  Will  you  direct  me  to  a  street  where 
I  can  find  a  hack  ? "  asked  Tommy. 
"  A  what  ?  " 
"  A  cab." 

"  I  guess  yer  lost,  ar'n't  ye  ?  " 
"  If  you   will  be  so  kind  as  to  direct 
me  to  Regent  Street  or  Oxford  Street,  or 
Pall  Mall,  I  will  pay  you." 


'AVE  YOU   GOT  A   PENNY?" 


198      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

Tommy  felt  in  his  pocket  for  his  purse.     It  was  not  there. 

"  Give  me  yer  hand,  little  boy/'  said  the  benevolent-looking  dame. 

The  two  walked  on  through  several  streets,  when  the  woman 
said, — 

"  This  street  will  take  you  to  Oxford  Street.  f Ave  you  got  a 
penny ?" 

«  No,"  said  Tommy ;  "  I  have  lost  it." 

"  Oh,  you  blackguard  —  " 

Tommy  did  not  stop  to  hear  any  figurative  language,  but  found 
his  way  to  Oxford  Street  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  took  with  him  to 
the  hotel  so  deep  a  sense  of  humiliation  that  he  did  not  relate  the 
misadventure  and  loss  to  his  companions. 

In  the  evening  of  the  boys  "  own  "  day,  George  Howe  and  Leander 
Towle  arrived  unexpectedly  at  the  hoteL 

"  We  have  come,"  said  George,  fc  to  bid  you  good-by.w 

"  Why  good-by  ?  "  asked  Master  Lewis. 

"  We  have  been  abroad  a  fortnight,"  said  George ;  "  have  seen  the 
capitals  of  Scotland,  England,  and  France;  have  rode  through  the 
heart  of  England  and  the  most  interesting  part  of  Normandy,  and,  as 
our  money  is  more  than  half  gone,  we  must  return.  The  steamer 
leaves  to-morrow." 

"  How  much  will  the  whole  trip  cost  you  ?  "  asked  Wyllys. 

"  It  will  cost  us  each  $56.00  for  the  ocean  passage  both  ways,  and 
our  travelling  expenses  and  board  for  the  two  weeks  have  averaged  to 
each  $2.00  per  day,  or  $28.00.  The  trip  will  cost  me,  well  —  when  I 
have  made  some  purchases  —  say  $95.00,  though  I  have  not  yet  spent 
as  much  as  this." 

"  Have  you  obtained  your  return  tickets  ?  "  asked  Master  Lewis. 

"  No,  not  yet" 

**  Let  me  advise  you  not  to  take  steerage  passage  in  returning.  The 
steerage  will  be  crowded,  and  you  will  in  that  case  find  it  no  holiday 
experience.  Take  a  second-cabin  ticket  for  $40.00." 

"My  expenses  then  will  not  greatly  exceed  $100." 


LONDON. 


199 


"  Another  steamer  sails  in  a  few  days,"  said  Master  Lewis  ;  "  accept 
my  invitation  to  remain  with  us  over  to-morrow,  and  visit  Windsor 
Castle  with  us.  It  shall  add  nothing  to  your  expenses." 

The  boys  were  delighted  to  accept  Master  Lewis's  generous  pro- 
posal. It  was  arranged  that  the  next  morning  the  whole  party  should 
go  to  Windsor. 

"  Before  we  go  to  Windsor  Castle,"  said  Frank  Gray  to  Master 
Lewis,  "  will  you  not  tell  us  something  about  the  place  ?  " 

"  Windsor  Castle,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  is  the  finest  of  English 
palaces,  and  is  one  of  the  residences  of  the  royal  family.  In  its 
park,  Prince  Albert  lies  buried  in  the  mausoleum  erected  by  the 
queen.  Perhaps  I  cannot  better  instruct  you  for  the  visit  than  by 
telling  you  the  story  of 

PRINCE   ALBERT   AND   HIS   QUEEN. 

"  For  seventeen  years  Queen  Victoria  has  mourned  for  one  of  the 
best  husbands  and  one  of  the  wisest  advisers  that  ever  a  female  sover- 
eign had. 

"  The  marriage  of  Victoria  and  Albert  was  a  love-match ;  not  a 
very  common  thing  in  unions  of  princes  and  princesses.  They  were 
first  cousins,  Albert's  father  and  Victoria's  mother  having  been  brother 
and  sister,  the  children  of  the  Duke  of  Coburg;  but,  when  they  be- 
came engaged,  their  situations  were  very  different.  Victoria  was  the 
young  queen  of  one  of  the  mightiest  and  proudest  empires  on  earth ; 
Albert  was  only  the  younger  son  of  a  poor  and  petty  German  prince, 
4  across  whose  dominion  one  might  walk  in  half  a  day/ 

"  But  their  relationship  and  the  plans  of  their  family  served  to 
bring  them  together  at  a  very  early  age,  and  they  were  very  young 
when  their  union  was  first  thought  of.  Old  King  Leopold  of  Belgium 
was  the  uncle  of  both  of  them ;  and  it  was  he  who  first  conceived  the 
idea  of  their  marriage.  But  not  a  word  was  said  to  either  of  them 


200       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

about  it  until  an  affection  had  grown  up  between  them,  and  it  was 
time  for  the  young  queen  to  choose  a  partner  for  her  heart  and  throne. 

"  Albert    and  Victoria  met  for  the 
first  time  when  they  were  both  seven- 
teen  years   old.     The   young  prince 
and  his  brother  went  to  England  to 
pay  a  visit  to  their  aunt  and  cousin, 
and  the  young  couple  were  brought 
together.      Albert   at   that  time   was 
rather   short   and    thick-set,  but  fine- 
looking,    rosy-cheeked,    natural     and 
simple  in  his  manners,  and  of  a  cheer- 
ful disposition.      He  took  a  great  deal 
VICTORIA  AT  THE  AGE  OF  EIGHT.       of  interest  in  every  thing  about  him, 
and  while  on  his  visit  to  England  spent  much  time  in  playing  on  the 
piano  with   his  cousin  Victoria,  who  was  then  a  slight,  graceful,  and 
interesting  girl. 

"  She  fell  in  love  with  him  at  once ;  but  he,  though  he  liked  her, 
was  not  so  quickly  impressed.  He  wrote  to  his  Uncle  Leopold  that 
'our  cousin  is  very  amiable,'  but  had  no  stronger  praise  for  her. 
Albert  then  returned  to  the  continent,  and  spent  some  years  in  travel 
and  study,  writing  occasionally  to  Victoria  and  she  to  him.  Mean- 
while, King  William  IV.  died,  and  Victoria,  in  her  eighteenth  year, 
ascended  the  British  throne. 

"  The  young  prince's  next  visit  took  place  in  the  year  after  this 
event,  and  now  his  object  was  to  plead  for  the  hand  and  heart  of  the 
young  queen.  Victoria  could  scarcely  believe  her  eyes  when  she  saw 
him.  The  short,  thick-set  boy  had  grown  into  a  tall,  comely  youth, 
with  elegant  manners  and  a  strikingly  handsome  face.  Soon  after,  she 
wrote  to  her  Uncle  Leopold,  *  Albert's  beauty  is  most  striking,  and  he 
is  most  amiable  and  unaffected,  —  in  short,  very  fascinating.' 

"  A  few  days  after  his  arrival,  Victoria  had  made  up  her  mind ; 


LONDON.  201 

and,  sending  for  Lord  Melbourne,  the  prime  minister,  told  him  that 
she  was  going  to  marry  Prince  Albert.  The  next  day  she  sent  for 
the  prince;  and  'in  a  genuine  outburst  of  heartiness  and  love '  she 
declared  to  him  that  he  had  gained  her  whole  heart,  and  would  make 
her  very  happy  if  he  would  share  his  life  with  her.  He  responded 
with  warm  affection,  and  thus  they  became  betrothed. 

"  The  queen  not  only  thus  '  popped  the  question,'  but  insisted  that 
the  marriage  should  take  place  at  an  early  day.  This  was  in  the 
summer  of  1839;  and,  in  the  early  winter  of  1840,  the  young  couple 
were  married  in  the  royal  chapel  of  St.  James,  in  the  midst  of  general 
rejoicing,  and  with  great  pomp  and  ceremony. 

"  Such  was  the  beginning  of  a  happy  wedded  life,  which  lasted  for 
over  twenty  years,  and  during  which  the  love  of  each  for  the  other 
seemed  to  increase  constantly.  A  little  circle  of  children  was  soon 
formed  around  the  royal  hearthstone,  and  the  domestic  life  of  the 
palace  was  full  of  contentment  and  good  order ;  and,  as  Victoria  grew 
older,  she  learned  more  and  more  of  the  excellent  character  that 
Providence  had  given  her  for  a  husband. 

"  While  Prince  Albert  assumed  the  direction  of  the  family,  and 
was  the  unquestioned  master  of  it  in  its  private  life,  he  was  wise 
enough  to  be  very  careful  how  he  interfered  with  the  queen  in  the 
performance  of  her  public  duties.  He  knew  that,  as  a  foreigner,  the 
English  would  be  very  jealous  of  him  if  he  took  part  in  politics,  or 
tried  to  influence  Victoria  in  her  conduct  as  a  ruler. 

"  At  the  same  time,  the  young  queen,  scarcely  more  than  a  girl, 
needed  a  guiding  hand,  and  one  that  she  could  trust.  No  one  could 
be  so  much  trusted  as  her  husband ;  and  Albert  gradually  became  her 
adviser  on  public  affairs,  as  well  as  the  head  of  her  household.  At 
first,  there  were  many  grumblings  and  complaints  about  this  in  Eng- 
land ;  but  as  the  purity  and  good  sense  of  the  prince  became  better 
known,  as  it  became  evident  that  his  ambition  was  to  serve  the  queen 
and  the  country,  these  complaints  for  the  most  part  ceased. 


202        ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  Prince  Albert  devoted  himself,  with  all  his  heart  and  mind,  to  the 
duties  which  he  found  weighing  upon  him  as  a  husband  and  father, 
and  as  the  most  intimate  counsellor  of  the  monarch  of  a  great  country. 
He  denied  himself  many  of  the  innocent  pleasures  which  lay  within 
his  reach,  went  but  little  into  society,  and  spent  his  days  and  evenings 
in  serious  occupations  and  in  the  midst  of  his  happy  family  circle. 

"  Among  other  things,  he  took  a  very  deep  interest  in  the  progress 
of  art,  science,  and  education.  '  His  horses,'  says  a  writer,  *  might  be 
seen  waiting  for  him  before  the  studios  of  artists,  the  museums  of  art 
and  science,  the  institutions  for  benevolence  or  culture,  but  never 
before  the  doors  of  dissipation  or  mere  fashion.' 

"  It  was  Prince  Albert  who  proposed  and  planned  the  great  Lon- 
don Exhibition  of  1851,  the  first  of  the  series  of  'World's  Fairs,' 
which  have  since  been  so  frequently  held,  the  latest  being  our  own 
Centennial ;  and  when  it  had  been  resolved  upon,  it  was  Prince 
Albert's  labor  and  energy,  more  than  that  of  any  other,  which  made  it 
a  success. 

"  In  his  own  family  circle  Prince  Albert  was  always  kind,  gentle, 
and  indulgent,  but  firm  and  resolute  in  his  treatment  of  his  children. 
He  took  a  great  interest  in  their  studies,  and  directed  their  education, 
sometimes  teaching  them  himself;  and  he  bestowed  an  anxious  and 
fatherly  care  upon  the  formation  of  their  manners  and  habits,  and  a 
right  training  of  their  hearts  and  minds. 

"  From  first  to  last,  he  was  as  tenderly  devoted  to  the  queen  as  a 
lover.  He  went  with  her  everywhere,  and  his  tastes  and  hers  were 
entirely  congenial.  Of  a  quiet  and  domestic  disposition,  he  was  amply 
content  to  find  his  pleasures  in  the  family  circle ;  and  Victoria  took 
a  perpetual  delight  in  his  kind  and  cultivated  companionship. 

"When  Prince  Albert  died,  in  December,  1861,  the  queen  was 
overwhelmed  with  grief;  and  it  was  many  years  before  she  so  far 
recovered  from  it  that  she  could  bear  to  show  herself  in  public,  or  to 
take  part  in  any  social  gathering  or  State  ceremony. 


LONDON. 


203 


"  He  was  placed  in  a  tomb  in  the  beautiful  park  of  Windsor,  where 
she  had  so  often  roamed  with  him  in  their  early  wedded  life;  and 
every  year,  on  the  sad  anniversary  of  his  death,  Victoria  repairs  to  his 
grave,  and  prays,  and  scatters  flowers  on  the  tomb." 

Windsor  Castle  had  its 
rise  in  early  Saxon  times, 
and  was  made  a  fortress 
by  William  the  Conqueror. 
Froissart  says  that  King 
Arthur  instituted  his  Order 
of  the  Knights  of  the  Round 
Table  here.  King  John 
dwelt  here  during  the  con- 
ferences at  Runnymede, 
when  the  barons  drove  him 
almost  to  madness  by  com- 
pelling him  to  sign  away  his 
royal  claims  by  the  accept- 
ance of  the  Magna  Charta. 

The  situation  of  the 
castle  is  most  beautiful ;  it 
overlooks  the  Thames,  and 
from  its  tower  twelve  coun- 
ties may  be  seen.  The 
home  park  of  the  palace 
contains  five  hundred  acres, 
and  this  is  connected  with 
Windsor  Great  Park,  which  has  an  area  of  one  thousand  eight  hun- 
dred acres. 

The  beauty  of  St.  George's  Chapel  greatly  excited  the  wonder  of 
our  tourists.  Here  are  the  tombs  of  Henry  VIII.,  Charles  I.,  Georges 
III.  and  IV.,  and  William  IV. 


ANGER    OF     KING    JOHN. 


204       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  Here,"  said  Wyllys  Wynn,  "is  the  finest  monument  I  have  yet 
seen  in  England.  How  beautifully  the  light  is  made  to  fall  upon 
it!" 

The  monument  represented  a  dead  princess,  with  a  sheet  thrown 
over  the  body  and  couch,  as  though  she  had  just  expired.  Above  it 
the  spirit  of  the  maiden  is  shown  in  the  form  of  an  angel  ascending  to 
heaven. 

"  It  is  the  tomb  of  the  Princess  Charlotte,"  said  Master  Lewis. 
"  She  was  one  of  the  most  amiable  princesses  that  ever  won  the  affec- 
tions of  the  English  people.  Her  death  came  like  a  private  sorrow  to 
every  family  in  the  kingdom,  and  was  the  occasion  of  the  most  tender 
public  expressions  of  grief. 

"  I  must  tell  you  a  story,"  continued  Master  Lewis,  after  standing 
at  the  tomb  of  George  III.,  "that  will  soften  your  feelings,  perhaps, 
towards  one  whom,  for  political  reasons,  our  own  history  has  taught 
us  to  regard  as  little  worthy  of  respect ;  but  who  had  great  private 
virtues,  whatever  may  have  been  his  political  mistakes." 

In  the  bright  avenue  of  elms,  called  the  Long  Walk,  which  con- 
nects the  home  park  with  the  Great  Park  of  Windsor,  Master  Lewis 
told  the  boys  the  story  of  the  lamented  Princess  Amelia  and  her 
unhappy  father,  who  became  insane  from  his  loss,  when  she  died.  The 
pathetic  story  made  a  great  impression  on  the  minds  of  the  party,  and 
it  was  several  hours  before  they  resumed  their  accustomed  air  of 
gayety  and  enjoyment.  They  returned  to  London  in  the  late  even- 
ing twilight,  and  the  next  day  the  party  separated.  George  Howe 
and  Leander  Towle  remained  in  London  until  the  sailing  of  the  next 
steamer  for  America ;  and  Master  Lewis  and  the  boys  under  his  own 
care  took  a  steamer  for  Antwerp. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

BELGIUM. 

BELGIUM.  —  DOG-CARTS.  —  WATERLOO.  —  AIX-LA-CHAPELLE  AND  CHARLEMAGNE.  —  STORY 
OF  CHARLEMAGNE.  —  GHENT  AND  JAMES  VAN  ARTEVELDE.  —  BRUGES.  —  STORY  OF 
CHARLES  THE  RASH.  —  LONGFELLOW'S  "  BELFRY  OF  BRUGES."  —  FRENCH  DILIGEN- 
CES. —  NORMANDY.  —  A  STORY-TELLING  DRIVER.  —  STORY  OF  THE  WILD  GIRL  OP 
SONGI. 

NVERS ! "     By  this  name  is  Antwerp  known  in  Belgium,, 
of  which  it  is  the  chief  commercial  port. 

The  Class  stopped  here  only  long  enough  to  visit  the 
Cathedral,  where  are   to   be  seen  two  of   Rubens'  most 
celebrated  pictures,  the  Elevation  of  and  the  Descent  from  the  Cross. 
The  boys  climbed  up  to  the  belfry  of  the  famous  spire,  whose  bells 
make  the  air  tremble  for  miles  with  the  melody  of  their  chimes. 

It  was  Master  Lewis's  plan  to  travel  through  the  lower  part  of  Bel- 
gium and  through  Normandy  by  short  journeys  near  the  coast,  but  he 
made  a  detour  from  Antwerp  to  Brussels  that  the  boys  might  visit 
the  battlefield  of  Waterloo. 

The  landscape  along  the  route  to  Brussels  was  dotted  with  quaint 
windmills,  reminding  one  of  the  old  pictorial  histories,  in  which  Hol- 
land is  illustrated  by  cuts  of  these  workshops  of  the  air. 

The  boys  entered  the  city  in  the  morning  and  passed  in  view  of  the 
great  market  square  and  its  contiguous  streets. 

"  This  city,"  said  Frank  Gray,  "  was  the  scene  of  the  grand  military 
ball  before  the  Battle  of  Waterloo. 

"  '  There  was  a  sound  of  revelry  by  night, 
And  Belgium's  capital  had  gathered  then 
Her  beauty  and  her  chivalry,  and — '" 


206       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  And  please  don't  quote  the  reading  book,"  said  Tommy  Toby. 
"  The  city  is  full  of  dog-carls.  Dog-carts  heaped  full  of  vegetable* 
and  women  to  lead  about  the  dogs !  What  a  comical  sight !  " 


"  They  are  probably  country  people  with  produce  to  sell,"  said 
Wyllys.  "  What  curious  head-dresses !  What  odd  jackets !  The 
scene  does  not  much  remind  one  of  Byron's  poetry ;  but  it  is  poetic, 
after  all ! " 


BELGIUM. 


207 


"  I  understood  that  we  came  here  to  study  the  associations  of  his- 
tory," said  Frank,  "  and  not  dog-carts." 

"  I  came  to  see  what  I  could  see,"  said  Tommy,  "  and  not  to  imagine 
battles  in  the  air." 


DOG-CARTS. 


The  unexpected  street  scenes  and  the  general  interest  of  the  Class 
in  them  so  offended  Frank  that  he  turned  his  eyes  with  a  far-away 
look  towards  the  highest  gables,  and  passed  on  the  rest  of  the  way  to 
the  Hotel  de  1'Europe  in  silence. 

.  The  next  morning  the  Class  left  the  Place  Royale,  in  a  fine  English 
stage-coach,  in  company  with  an  agent  of  the  English  mail  coaches, 
for  Waterloo,  which  is  about  twelve  miles  from  the  city.  It  was  a 
bright  day,  and  the  airy  road  led  through  the  forest  of  Soignies,  —  the 
"  Ardennes  "  of  Byron's  "  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage." 

"And  Ardennes  waves  about  them  her  green  leaves, 
Dewy  with  Nature's  tear-drops,  as  they  pass." 

The  battlefield  of  Waterloo  is  an  open  plain,  graced  here  and  there 
with  appropriate  monuments,  and  dignified  with  an  imposing  earth 
mound  with  the  Belgian  Lion  on  its  top. 


208       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

It  did  not  seem  that  the  plain  could  ever  have  been  the  scene  ot 
such  a  contest,  so  great  was  its  beauty  and  so  quiet  its  midsummer 
loveliness. 


STREET    SCENES    IN    BRUSSELS. 


"  Here,"  said  Frank,  "  the  Old  Guard  of  France,  who  could  die  but 
not  surrender,  gave  their  blood  for  the  empire." 

"  Here,"  said  Wyllys,  "  England  won  her  greatest  battle  on  land  —  " 

"  At  the  cost  of  twenty  thousand  men,  as  I  have  read,"  said  Tommy. 

"  Victor  Hugo,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  declares  that  Waterloo  was  not 
a  battle  :  it  was  a  change  of  front  of  the  nations  of  the  world." 

The  Class  stopped  at  Brussels  on  their  return  from  the  most  peace- 
ful plain  to  take  a  view  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  which  is  one  of  the 


BELGIUM. 


209 


finest  town-halls  in  the  country.     Its  tower  is  more  than  three  hundred 
and  sixty  feet  high,  and  is  surmounted  with  a  colossal  statue  of  St. 


HOTEL  DE  VILLE,     BRUSSELS 


Michael,  which  looks  very  small  indeed  from  the  square,  but  which  is 
really  seventeen  feet  high.  The  figure  turns  in  the  wind,  and  is  the 
weather  vane  of  the  city. 


2IO      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYSs    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  I  wish  you  to  visit  Aix-la-Chapelle,"  said  Master  Lewis.  "  The 
places  you  have  seen  in  England  and  expect  to  see  in  Normandy  will, 
I  hope,  leave  in  your  mind  a  clear  view  of  English  history,  when  you 
shall  associate  them  under  my  direction,  as  I  purpose  to  have  you  do. 
To  have  a  view  of  French  history  you  will  need  to  learn  something  of 
the  old  empire  of  Charlemagne,  of  which  this  city  was  the  principal 


CHARLEMAGNE  IN  COUNCIL. 


capital  on  this  side  of  the  Alps.  Here  the  great  king  of  the  Franks, 
Roman  Emperor,  and  virtual  ruler  of  the  world  was  born,  had  his 
favorite  residence,  and  here  he  was  buried.  Here,  in  1165,  his  tomb 
was  opened,  and  his  body  was  found  seated  upon  a  throne,  crowned, 
the  sceptre  in  his  hand,  the  Gospel  on  his  knee,  and  all  of  the  insignia 
of  imperial  state  about  him." 

Through  districts  of  pasture  lands,  by  cliffs  that  looked  like  castles, 
over  clear  streams  and  past  populous  villages  our  tourists  made  their 
way  to  the  old  city  of  the  emperor  of  the  West.  It  is  situated  in  a 
valley,  surrounded  by  heights.  Its  town  hall  was  built  on  the  ruins  of 
the  palace  of  Charlemagne. 


BELGIUM. 


21  I 


The  grand  old  cathedral  has  sixteen  sides.  In  the  middle  of  the 
interior,  a  stone  with  the  inscription  CAROLO  MAGNO  marks  the  grave 
of  Charlemagne. 

"  Charlemagne,  like  Alfred  of  England,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  was  a 
patron  of  learning ;  and  he  instituted  in  his  own  palace  a  school  for  his 
sons  and  servants.  But  he  was  a  war-making  king.  He  conducted  in 


CHARLEMAGNE    AT    THE    HEAD    OF    HIS    ARMY. 

all  fifty-three  expeditions  in  Germany,  Gaul,  Italy,  and  Greece,  and 
made  himself  the  ruler  of  the  greater  part  of  Northern  and  Eastern 
Europe.  He  went  to  Rome  in  800  A.D.  and  received  a  most  gracious 
reception  from  the  Pope,  as  in  all  his  contests  he  had  been  a  faithful 
servant  of  the  Church. 

"  On  Christmas  day,  800  A.D.  he  went  into  St.  Peter's  to  attend  mass. 
He  took  his  place  before  the  altar,  and,  as  he  bowed  his  head  to  pray, 
the  Pope  placed  the  crown  of  the  Roman  Empire  upon  it,  and  all  the 
people  shouted,  '  Long  live  Charles  Augustus,  crowned  of  God,  the 
great  Emperor  of  the  Romans  ! ' 

"  And  so  the  king  of  the  Franks  became  the  emperor  of  the 
world." 


212       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

The  relics  which  the  cathedral  exhibits  from  time  to  time  at  great 
public  festivals  are  remarkable  as  illustrations  of  the  influence  of  super- 
stition. Among  the  so-called  Grandes  Reliqucs  are  the  robe  worn  by 
the  Virgin  at  the  Nativity  and  the  swaddling  clothes  in  which  the 
infant  Saviour  was  wrapped.  It  would  be  almost  irreverent  to  excite 
ridicule  by  giving  a  list  of  the  articles  associated  with  the  crucifixion 
of  Christ.  Among  the  Petites  Reliques  are  pieces  of  Aaron's  rod  that 
budded.  Upon  these  pretended  relics  the  German  emperors  used  to 
take  the  State  oath  at  their  coronations. 

The  Class  next  visited  the  coronation  room  in  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  a 
hall  one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  long,  where  a  series  of  impressive 
frescoes  presents  a  view  of  the  life  of  Charlemagne.  In  this  hall  thirty- 
five  German  emperors  and  fourteen  empresses  had  been  crowned. 


HOTEL    DE    VILLE,    GHENT. 


VAN  ARTEVELDE  AT   HIS   DOOR. 


BELGIUM. 


215 


The  Class  returned  to  Brussels,  and  thence  made  easy  journeys 
through  a  fertile  and  thickly  settled  country,  towards  Normandy. 

Ghent,  a  grand  old  city  of  the  commerce  kings  of  Flanders,  with  its 
quaint  town-hall  and  its  two  hundred  and  seventy  bridges,  next  met  the 
eager  eyes  of  our  tourists,  who  stopped  here  briefly  on  their  way  to 
Bruges. 

"  I  never  hear  the  name  of  Ghent  pronounced,"  said  Master  Lewis, 
"without  recalling  the  scene  which  history  pictures  of  James  van 
Artevelde  standing  in  the  door  of  his  house,  when  the  burghers,  tired 
of  the  rule  of  kings  and  nobles,  came  to  him  for  counsel,  and  asked 
him  to  become  their  leader.  It  was  really  the  burghers'  declaration  of 
independence,  and  the  making  one  of  their  number,  —  for  James  van 
Artevelde  was  a  brewer,  —  president  of  the  rich  old  city.  This  was 
on  the  26th  of  December,  1337.  It  was  a  bold  stroke  for  liberty  in 
the  days  of  tyranny,  and  the  memory  of  it  will  ever  live." 

"  I  know  but  little  of  the  history  of  Bruges,"  said  Wyllys  Wynn  to 
Master  Lewis,  during  the  ride  to  that  city.  "  I  have  heard,  of  course, 
of  its  belfry,  and  I  also  remember  what  Tommy  said  about  it  in  his 
story  of  Philip  the  Good  and  the  Tinker.  What  makes  the  city  so 
famous  ? " 

"  It  was  once,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  the  greatest  commercial  port  in 
the  world ;  a  hundred  and  fifty  foreign  vessels  would  sometimes  enter 
its  basins  in  a  single  day.  Its  inhabitants  became  very  rich,  and  its 
grandees  lived  like  princes.  A  French  queen  who  visited  it  in  its  high 
prosperity  is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  '  I  thought  myself  the  only  queen 
here,  but  I  see  a  thousand  about  me  ! '  Twenty  ministers  from  foreign 
courts  had  residences  within  its  walls.  It  excelled  all  places  in  the 
manufacture  of  wool ;  and  in  recognition  of  this  fact  Philip  the  Good 
instituted  there  the  Order  of  the  Golden  Fleece. 

"  There  is  an  historic  character  whose  name  is  associated  with 
Bruges  in  a  very  different  way  from  Philip  the  Good,  —  a  famous 
son  of  Philip,  who  was  called 


2i6       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


CHARLES    THE    RASH. 

"  His  surname  is  a  picture  of  his  character,  and  it  seems  strange  that 
so  good  a  duke  as  Philip  should  have  had  so  bad  a  son.  To  wage 
war,  harry  and  burn,  to  be  engaged  always  in  some  work  of  destruc- 
tion, was  the  passion  of  his  life.  He  devastated  Normandy,  destroying 
more  than  two  hundred  castles  and  towns.  He  rilled  the  land  with 
smoke,  and  colored  the  rivers  with  blood. 

"  He  succeeded  to  the  ducal  crown  of  Burgundy  in  1467.  Being 
the  richest  prince  of  the  times,  he  immediately  began  to  make  prepara- 
tions for  war  on  a  gigantic  scale,  which  should  add  all  the  neighbor- 
ing territories  and  provinces  to  Burgundy.  He  desired  to  extend  his 
personal  power  at  any  expense  of  blood  and  treasure,  and  he  mapped 
out  plans  of  conquest  and  dreamed  dazzling  dreams. 

"  While  he  was  getting  ready  for  war,  Louis  XI.  of  France  invited 
him  to  a  conference:  he  hesitated,  and  Louis,  through  his  partisans, 
incited  the  citizens  of  Liege  to  revolt  against  him.  Charles  then 
consented  to  the  conference,  but  as  soon  as  Louis  arrived,  he  treach- 
erously seized  him  and  made  him  his  prisoner.  He  forced  him  to  swear 
a  treaty  on  a  box  which  was  believed  to  contain  pieces  of  the  true 
cross,  and  which  had  belonged  to  Charlemagne.  He  then  compelled 
him  to  go  with  him  to  Liege,  and  apparently  to  sanction  the  punish- 
ment of  the  people  for  the  very  revolt  he  had  incited  them  to  make. 

"  He  conquered  Lcrraine,  and  planned  to  subdue  Switzerland  and 
add  it  to  Burgundy.  He  entered  Switzerland,  captured  Grandson, 
and  hanged  and  drowned  the  garrison.  The  Swiss  rose  unitedly 
against  such  a  merciless  foe,  and  utterly  defeated  him.  But  he  raised 
another  army  and  again  entered  Switzerland,  full  of  visions  of  con- 
quest. He  was  again  defeated. 

"  He  came  back  to  Burgundy,  morose  and  gloomy.  His  nails  and 
beard  grew  long;  he  looked  like  a  wild  rran  ;  the  people  recoiled  from 


CHARLES  THE  RASH   DISCOVERED. 


BELGIUM.  219 

him,  and  his  dark  character  seemed  to  throw  a  shadow  around  him 
wherever  he  appeared. 

"  Lorraine,  which  he  had  conquered,  rose  against  him.  This  roused 
him  again  to  action  :  he  hired  soldiers,  and  led  the  way  to  war.  He 
met  the  rebellious  Lorrainers  in  the  plain  of  Nancy.  Here  the  rash 
duke  made  his  last  fight.  It  was  a  snowy  day,  and  the  battle  was  a 
short  one,  —  the  soldiers  of  Charles  flying  quickly  before  the  enemy. 

"  When  the  duke  was  preparing  himself  for  the  battle,  the  gilt  lion 
which  formed  the  crest  of  his  helmet  fell  off. 

" '  It  is  a  sign  from  God,'  said  he,  smitten  in  conscience. 

"  When  the  battle  was  over  his  body  was  nowhere  to  be  found. 

"  They  searched  for  it  in  the  snow-covered  fields.  At  last  a  Roman 
page  said  he  had  seen  the  duke  fall.  He  led  the  people  towards  a 
frozen  pond,  where  were  some  bodies  lying,  stripped.  A  washerwoman 
who  had  joined  in  the  search,  saw  the  glitter  of  a  jewel  on  the  hand  of 
a  corpse  whose  face  was  not  visible.  The  head  was  frozen  in  the  ice. 
The  position  of  the  body  was  changed.  It  was  Charles  the  Rash.  He 
was  finally  buried  in  the  church  of  Notre  Dame,  whose  spire  you  may 
already  see  shining  in  the  sun." 

The  story  of  Charles  the  Rash  led  the  Class  to  visit  the  old  church 
of  Notre  Dame  soon  after  their  arrival  in  the  courtly  old  city.  It  had  a 
greater  charm  for  the  boys  than  the  ornate  town-hall  with  its  famous 
belfry  and  its  many  bells.  In  a  side  chapel  was  the  tomb  of  the  rash 
duke  and  that  of  his  daughter,  Mary  of  Burgundy. 

"  I  can  only  think  of  the  snowy  field,  and  the  naked  body  frozen  in 
the  ice,"  said  Ernest  Wynn,  as  he  left  the  solemn  chapel. 

The  belfry  of  Bruges,  of  which  so  much  has  been  said  and  sung,  is 
really  only  about  three  hundred  feet  high,  but  affords  a  grand  view 
of  the  surrounding  country.  Its  chimes  play  by  machinery  four  times 
an  hour,  and  are  regarded  the  finest  in  Europe. 

We  must  let  Longfellow  tell  the  charming  story  of  his  visit  to  the 
old  tower:  — 


22O       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

In  the  market-place  of  Bruges  stands  the  belfry  old  and  brown  ; 
Thrice  consumed  and  thrice  rebuilded,  still  it  watches  o'er  the  town. 

As  the  summer  morn  was  breaking,  on  that  lofty  tower  I  stood, 
And  the  world  threw  off  the  darkness,  like  the  weeds  of  widowhood. 

Thick  with  towns  and  hamlets  studded,  and  with  streams  and  vapors  gray, 
Like  a  shield  embossed  with  silver,  round  and  vast  the  landscape  lay. 

At  my  feet  the  city  slumbered.     From  its  chimneys,  here  and  there, 
Wreaths  of  snow-white  smoke,  ascending,  vanished,  ghost-like,  into  air. 

Not  a  sound  rose  from  the  city  at  that  early  morning  hour, 
But  I  heard  a  heart  of  iron  beating  in  the  ancient  tower. 

From  their  nests  beneath  the  rafters  sang  the  swallows  wild  and  high  ; 
And  the  world,  beneath  me  sleeping,  seemed  more  distant  than  the  sky. 

Then  most  musical  and  solemn,  bringing  back  the  olden  times, 
With  their  strange,  unearthly  changes  rang  the  melancholy  chimes, 

Like  the  psalms  from  some  old  cloister,  when  the  nuns  sing  in  the  choir; 
And  the  great  bell  tolled  among  them,  like  the  chanting  of  a  friar. 

Visions  of  the  days  departed,  shadowy  phantoms  filled  my  brain ; 
They  who  live  in  history  only  seemed  to  walk  the  earth  again  ; 

All  the  Foresters  of  Flanders,  —  mighty  Baldwin  Bras  der  Fer, 
Lyderick  du  Bucq  and  Cressy  Philip,  Guy  de  Dampierre. 

I  beheld  the  pageants  splendid  that  adorned  those  days  of  old ; 

Stately  dames,  like  queens  attended,  knights  who  bore  the  Fleece  of  Gold. 

Lombard  and  Venetian  merchants  with  deep-laden  argosies; 
Ministers  from  twenty  nations ;  more  than  royal  pomp  and  ease. 

I  beheld  proud  Maximilian,  kneeling  humbly  on  the  ground; 
I  beheld  the  gentle  Mary,  hunting  with  her  hawk  and  hound ; 

And  her  lighted  bridal-chamber,  where  a  duke  slept  with  the  queen, 
And  the  armed  guard  around  them,  and  the  sword  unsheathed  between. 

I  beheld  the  Flemish  weavers,  with  Namur  and  Juliers  bold, 
Marching  homeward  from  the  bloody  battle  of  the  Spurs  of  Gold ; 


BELGIUM.  221 

Saw  the  fight  at  Minnewater,  saw  the  White  Hoods  moving  west, 
Saw  great  Artevelde  victorious  scale  the  Golden  Dragon's  nest. 

And  again  a  whiskered  Spaniard  all  the  land  with  terror  smote  ; 
And  again  the  wild  alarum  from  the  tocsin's  throat,  — 

Till  the  bell  of  Ghent  responded  o'er  lagoon  and  dike  of  sand, 
"  I  am  Roland !    I  am  Roland  !    there  is  victory  in  the  land !  " 

Then  the  sound  of  drums  aroused  me.     The  awakened  city's  roar 
Chased  the  phantoms  1  had  summoned  back  into  their  graves  once  more. 

Hours  had  passed  away  like  minutes  ;  and,  before  I  was  aware, 
Lo  !    the  shadow  of  the  belfry  crossed  the  sun-illumined  square. 

On  entering  Normandy,  Master  Lewis  engaged  passages  on  dili- 
gences, wherever  a  promise  of  a  route  amid  pleasant  scenery  offered 
itself.  It  seemed  to  be  the  boys'  greatest  delight  to  ride  on  the  top  of 
a  diligence. 

These  French  stage-coaches  are  lofty,  lumbering  vehicles,  composed 
of  three  parts.  The  front  division  is  called  coupe,  and  is  shaped  some- 
what like  an  old-time  chariot.  It  holds  three  persons.  Next  is  the 
interieur  or  inside,  holding  six  persons,  an  apartment  much  shunned  in 
pleasant  weather  in  summer  time.  Behind  is  the  rotonde  which 
collects  "  dust,  dirt,  and  bad  company."  Over  all  is  the  banquette,  a 
castle-like  position  on  the  top  of  the  coupe,  a  seat  protected  by  a  hood, 
or  head,  and  leather  apron. 

To  secure  this  seat  beside  the  "  driver"  was  Tommy  Toby's  highest 
ambition,  when  about  to  leave  a  newly  visited  place. 

In  one  of  these  rides,  when  Tommy  and  Wyllys  Wynn  occupied 
this  high  seat,  Tommy  said  to  the  driver,  — 

"  It  seems  strange  to  me  to  find  such  great  forests  in  old  countries 
like  England,  Belgium,  and  France.  I  fancied  that  great  tracts  of 
wood  only  existed  in  new  lands  like  America,  or  half-civilized  places. 
Are  there  wild  animals  in  the  woods  here  ? " 

The  driver  was  a  French  soldier,  quite  advanced  in  life.     He  spoke 


222       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

English  well,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  giving  the  largest  possible  informa- 
tion to  his  seat  companions. 

"  Yes,  there  are  some  wild  animals  left  in  the  forest,"  he  said,  — 
"  of  the  harmless  kind.  Wild  people  have  sometimes  been  found  in  the 
largest  tracts  of  forest." 

"  Wild  people  ?  "  asked  Tommy,  his  curiosity  greatly  excited.  "  Did 
you  ever  see  a  wild  man  ?  " 

"  No,  not  myself.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  Peter  the  Wild  Boy  found 
in  the  woods  in  Hanover  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Tommy. 

"  There  was  a  wild  girl  found  in  the  French  woods,  not  far  from 
Paris,  about  the  same  time." 

"  Will  you  not  tell  us  the  story  ?  "  asked  Tommy. 

The  diligence  lumbered  along  among  the  cool  forest  scenery, 
between  the  walls  of  green  trees  which  now  and  then,  like  suddenly 
opened  windows,  afforded  extended  views ;  and  the  good-natured,  well- 
informed  driver  told  the  two  boys  the  story  of 

THE    WILD    GIRL    OF    SONGI. 

"  In  the  year  1731,  as  a  nobleman  was  hunting  at  Songi,  near  the 
ancient  and  historic  town  of  Chalons,  on  the  river  Champagne,  in 
France,  he  discovered  a  couple  of  objects  at  a  distance  in  the  water, 
at  which  he  fired,  supposing  them  to  be  birds. 

"  They  immediately  disappeared,  but  arose  at  a  point  near  the 
shore,  when  they  were  found  to  be  two  children,  evidently  about  a 
dozen  years  of  age. 

"  They  carried  to  the  shore  some  fish  that  they  had  caught,  which 
they  tore  in  pieces  with  their  teeth  and  devoured  raw,  without  chewing. 

"  After  their  meal,  one  of  them  found  a  rosary,  probably  lost  by  some 
devotee,  with  which  she  seemed  highly  delighted.  She  endeavored  to 
conceal  it  from  her  companion,  but  the  latter  made  the  discovery,  and, 


BELGIUM. 


223 


filled  with  rage  and  jealousy,  inflicted  a  severe  blow  on  the  hand  con- 
taining the  treasure.  The  other  returned  the  blow,  striking  her  com- 
panion on  the  head  with  a  heavy  missile,  and  bringing  her  to  the 
ground  with  a  cry  of  pain. 

"  The  sisters,  for  such  they  probably  were,  parted.  The  one  most 
injured  went  towards  the  river  and  was  never  seen  or  heard  of  after- 
wards. The  other  hurried  off  towards  the  hamlet  of  Songi. 

"She  was  a  strange  and  frightful-looking  creature.  Her  color  was 
black,  and  her  only  clothing  consisted  of  loose  rags  and  the  skins  of 
animals.  The  people  of  Songi  fled  to  their  houses  and  barred  their 
doors  at  the  sight  of  her. 

"  She  wandered  about  the  place,  greatly  to  the  terror  of  the  villagers, 
but  at  last  some  adventurers  determined  to  set  a  dog  on  her.  She 
awaited  the  attack  coolly,  but  as  soon  as  the  monster  came  fairly  within 
her  reach,  she  dealt  him  such  a  blow  on  the  head  as  laid  him  lifeless 
on  the  spot. 

"The  astonished  peasants  kept  at  a  safe  retreating  distance,  not 
wishing  a  personal  encounter  with  such  a  creature.  She  endeavored  to 
gain  admittance  to  some  of  the  houses,  but  the  quaking  occupants,  who 
seem  to  have  fancied  that  the  evil  one  himself  had  made  his  appear- 
ance, securely  fastened  their  doors  and  windows. 

"  She  at  length  retired  to  the  fields  and  climbed  a  tree,  where  she 
sat,  appearing  to  the  spectators  like  an  omen  of  ill  to  Songi. 

"  The  Viscount  d'Epinoy  was  stopping  at  Songi  at  this  time,  and, 
supposing  the  creature  to  be  a  wild  girl,  offered  a  reward  for  her  cap- 
ture. 

"  The  excitement  in  the  hamlet  cooling,  a  party  was  formed  to  secure 
the  reward.  The  wild  girl  still  remained  in  the  tree,  evidently  taking 
repose.  Thinking  that  she  must  be  thirsty,  a  bucket  of  water  was 
placed  at  the  foot  of  the  tree.  She  descended,  looking  cautiously 
around,  and  drank,  but  immediately  ascended  to  the  top  of  the  tree,  as 
though  fearful  of  injury. 


224      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC   LANDS. 

"  She  was  at  length  allured  to  descend  by  a  woman,  who  held  out  to 
her  fish  and  fruit.  She  was  seized  by  stout  men,  and  taken  to  the  seat 
of  the  viscount.  One  of  her  first  acts  was  to  devour  raw  some  wild 
fowl,  which  she  found  in  the  kitchen. 

"  After  public  curiosity  had  been  satisfied,  the  viscount  sent  her  to  a 
shepherd  to  be  tamed.  The  latter  found  this  no  easy  matter,  and  her 
wildness  and  animal  nature  were  exhibited  in  so  marked  a  manner  that 
she  became  known  as  the  shepherd's  beast. 

"  She  sometimes  escaped.  Once  she  was  missing  over  night,  when 
there  came  a  terrible  snow-storm,  and  the  poor  shepherd  wandered  in 
search  of  her.  He  discovered  her  at  last  housed  just  as  she  had  been 
in  childhood,  in  the  branches  of  a  tree.  The  wind  blew  and  the  snow 
drifted  around  her,  but  she  was  loth  to  return.  She  had  learned  that 
trouble  dwells  in  houses,  and  here  in  the  tree-top,  if  she  was  cold,  she 
was  free.  I  wonder  if  she  thought  of  her  sister  in  whose  arms  she  had 
doubtless  slept  in  the  trees,  in  her  childhood. 

"  Her  agility  was  marvellous.  She  would  outrun  the  swiftest  animals, 
even  the  rabbits  and  hares.  The  Queen  of  Poland  once  took  her  on  a 
hunting  excursion,  and  much  amusement  she  afforded  to  the  royal 
party.  She  would  discover  game  with  the  shrewdness  of  a  bird  of 
prey,  and  having  outrun  and  captured  a  hare,  she  would  bring  it  with 
great  eagerness  to  the  astonished  and  delighted  queen. 

"  She  was  once  set  at  the  table  with  some  people  of  rank,  at  a  ban- 
quet. She  seemed  delighted  with  the  bright  costumes,  and  the  wit  and 
gay  spirits  of  the  guests.  Presently  she  was  gone.  She  returned  at  last 
with  something  very  choice  in  her  apron,  and  with  a  face  beaming  with 
happiness,  she  approached  a  fine  lady,  and  holding  up  a  live  frog  by 
the  leg  said  gleefully,  '  Have  some  ? ' 

"  She  dropped  the  frog  into  the  plate  of  the  startled  guest,  and 
passing  around  the  table,  with  a  liberal  supply  of  the  reptiles,  said, 
4  Have  some  ?  have  some  ? ' 

"  The   ladies   started   back   from    such    a   dessert,   and    the    poor 


BELGIUM.  225 

girl  felt  a  pang  of  disappointment  at  the  sudden  rejection  of  the 
offering. 

"  She  had  gathered  the  frogs  from  a  pond  near  at  hand. 

"  It  was  a  long  time  before  she  became  accustomed  to  the  habits  of 
civilization.  She  died  in  a  convent." 

"  What  a  strange  history  !  "  said  Wyllys  Wynn.  "  She  must  have 
found  her  life  in  the  convent  very  different  from  that  of  her  childhood. 
What  was  her  name  ?  " 

"  They  called  her  Maria  le  Blanc." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

UPPER      NORMANDY. 

CALAIS. —  THE  BLACK  PRINCE.  —  £TRETAT.  —  FRENCH  BATHING  . —  LEGEND.  —  ROUEN.  — 
STORY  OF  ST.  Louis.  —  STORY  OF  ST.  BARTHOLOMEW'S  EVE. 

gHE  Class  stopped  briefly  at  Calais,  and  was  disappointed  to 
find  a  city  so  famous  in  history  situated  in  a  barren  dis- 
trict, and  surrounded  with  little  that  is  picturesque.  The 
old  walls  around  the  town  are,  however,  pleasant  prome- 
nades, and  command  a  view  of  the  white  cliffs  of  England.  It  was 
here,  after  a  siege  of  eleven  months,  that  Eustace  de  St.  Pierre  and 
his  five  companions  offered  themselves  to  Edward  III.  as  a  ransom 
for  the  city,  and  were  saved  from  death  by  the  pleading  of  Queen 
Philippa.  The  town  was  a  fortress  then,  and  looked  menacingly  over 
to  England.  The  English  proudly  held  possession  of  it  for  more  than 
two  hundred  years,  or  from  1347  to  1558,  when  it  was  captured  in 
Bloody  Mary's  time  by  the  French  under  the  Due  de  Guise. 

"  When  I  am  dead,"  said  Mary  in  her  last  days,  "  and  my  body  is 
opened,  ye  shall  find  Calais  written  on  my  heart." 

Calais  recalls  the  stories  of  valor  of  the  chivalrous  campaigns  of  Ed- 
ward III.  and  his  son,  the  Black  Prince,  in  Normandy.  At  Crecy,  the 
Black  Prince,  when  only  sixteen  years  of  age,  led  the  English  army  to 
victory,  and  slew  the  King  of  Bohemia  with  his  own  hand. 

King  Edward  watched  this  battle  from  a  windmill  on  a  hill.  The 
French  army  was  many  times  larger  than  the  English.  The  Prince 
during  the  battle  found  himself  hard  pressed,  and  at  one  point  the 
Earl  of  Warwick  sent  to  the  king  for  assistance. 


UPPER  NORMANDY. 


227 


"  Is  my  son  killed  ?  " 

"  No,  sire,"  said  the  messenger. 

"  Is  he  wounded  ?  " 

"  No,  sire." 

"  Is  he  thrown  to  the  ground?  " 

"  No,  but  he  is  hard-pressed." 

"  Then,"  said  the  king,  "  I  shall  send  no  aid.  I  have  set  my  heart 
upon  his  proving  himself  a  brave  knight,  and  I  am  resolved  that  the 
victory  shall  be  due  to  his  own  valor." 

In  1356,  in  another  campaign  in  Normandy,  the  Black  Prince  won  a 
most  brilliant  victory  at  Poitiers,  and  captured  the  French  King  John. 
The  latter  was  a  brave  soldier,  and  fought  with  his  battle-axe  until  all 


CAPTURE    OF    KING    JOHN    AND    HIS    SON. 


228       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

the  nobles  had  forsaken  him.  The  Black  Prince  made  a  supper  for 
him  in  his  tent  in  the  evening,  and  waited  upon  him  at  the  table  with 
his  own  hands.  The  Black  Prince  and  the  captive  king  rode  through 
London  together,  the  former  in  great  pomp,  and  the  latter  on  a  cream- 
colored  pony  by  his  side.  All  of  these  things  read  prettily  in  history, 
but  one  is  glad  that  the  time  is  past  when  war  was  the  game  of  kings, 
and  armies  were  used  as  their  playthings. 

A  series  of  easy  rides  near  the  cool  sea  brought  the  Class  to  the  old 
fishing  village  of  fitretat,  now  a  fashionable  summer  resort  for  French 
artists,  and  a  popular  bathing-place  for  those  desiring  seclusion  amid 
the  coast  scenery.  It  is  situated  amid  rocks  which  the  sea  has  exca- 
vated into  arches,  aiguilles,  and  other  fantastic  recesses  and  caverns. 
Its  pretty  chalets  and  villas  on  the  hills,  its  gayly-dressed  summer 
idlers,  its  groups  of  fishermen  who  are  to  be  seen  in  all  weathers,  its 
handsome  fisher  girls  bronzed  by  the  sun  who  lead  a  free  life  by  the 
sea,  its  bathers  in  brilliant  dresses  of  blue  serge  and  bright  trimmings, 
its  bracing  air  and  usually  fine  weather,  make  it  one  of  the  quaintest 
and  most  restful  nooks  in  France. 

There  are  the  remains  of  a  Norman  church  near  the  sea.  It  is  said 
to  occupy  the  spot  where  the  people  watched  the  great  flotilla  of  Wil- 
liam the  Conqueror  drift  to  St.  Valery,  there  to  take  the  Norman  army 
to  England. 

A  French  watering-place  is  quite  different  from  an  American  seaside 
resort.  You  have  your  board  and  sleeping-room  in  one  of  the  hotels, 
but  your  parlors,  piazzas,  and  places  of  recreation  are  in  an  elegant 
pleasure  house,  called  the  Casino.  For  the  privileges  of  the  Casino 
you  pay  a  small  sum  ;  at  fitretat  it  amounts  to  about  ten  dollars  a 
month.  The  billiard-rooms,  ball-room,  and  the  rooms  for  general  con- 
versation are  in  the  Casino. 

Every  one  bathes  in  the  sea  at  fitretat,  women  and  children,  whole 
families  together,  and  most  of  the  girls  are  expert  swimmers.  It  is 
delightful  to  sit  upon  the  shingle^  as  the  pebbly  beach  is  called,  and 


UPPER  NORMANDY. 


229 


watch  the  sport  in  the  sun-bright  mornings  or  golden  and  dreamy 
afternoons.  The  costumes  of  the  bathers  are  so  pretty  that  the  scene 
seems  like  a  ball  in  the  sea.  Bathing  men  are  stationed  here  and 
there  to  render  any  needed  assistance. 

The  great  caverns  which  the  sea  has  worn  in  the  rocks  at  fitretat 
remind  one  of  the  ruins  of  immense  cathedrals,  and  are  grand  indeed 
in  the  light  of  the  full  summer  moon. 

The  place  abounds  with  story-telling  fishermen.  The  Class  was 
told  one  story  here  which  is  worthy  of  a  poem. 

"  A  beautiful  stream  once  watered  the  valley.  Its  bed  may  still  be 
seen,  but  it  now  runs  under  ground.  On  the  stream  an  industrious 
miller  built  his  mill  and  did  a 
thriving  business.  One  day 
a  woman,  sick  and  destitute, 
came  to  him  for  help.  He 
turned  heartlessly  away  from 
her  with  abuse.  The  poor 
creature  raised  her  withered 
arm,  and  said,  — 

" '  To-morrow  thou  shalt 
have  thy  reward.' 

"  When  the  miller  aweke 
the  next  morning  he  found 
his  mill  standing  on  dry 
ground.  The  river  had  gone 
down  into  the  earth,  where  it 
still  runs." 

The  fisher's  hymn  which 
Ernest  Wynn  gave  the  Club 
at  its  first  meeting  was  asked 
for  here  by  Master  Lewis,  and 
was  procured.  It  is  sung  be-  TOWER  OF  JOAN  OF  ARC,  ROUEN. 


230       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

fore  the  departure  of  ships  and  during  great  storms  in  the  fishing 
season,  being  a  part  of  the  mass  for  seamen,  or  the  messe  cT equi- 
page. 

The  Class  left  Etretat  for  Rouen. 

"  O  Rouen  !  Rouen  !  it  is  here  I  must  die,  and  here  shall  be  my  last 
resting-place  !  "  said  Joan  of  Arc  at  the  stake.  Rouen  was  hardly  the 
resting-place  of  the  heroic  peasant  girl,  for  her  ashes  were  thrown  into 
the  Seine.  But  the  thought  of  the  stranger  on  coming  to  Rouen  is 
less  associated  with  its  history  under  the  sea-kings  of  the  North,  the 


THE    MATD    OF    ORLEANS. 


Norman  dukes  and  the  English  invaders,  than  with  the  hard  fate  and 
the  public  memorials  of  tne  simple  shepherdess,  who  seems  to  have 
been  called  from  her  flocks  to  change  the  destiny  of  France. 

The  Class  entered  Rouen  after  a  series  of  short,  zigzag  journeys, 
partly  in  coaches  and  partly  on  foot,  going  leisurely  from  town  to  town 
through  roads  that  presented  to  view  continuous  landscapes  of  shining 
orchards,  ripening  gardens,  and  resplendent  poppy-fields;  stopping  at 


UPPER  NORMANDY. 


231 


Amiens,  the  birthplace  of  Peter  the  Hermit,  meeting  here  and  there  a 
ruin,  and  finding  everywhere  the  connecting  historical  links  between  the 
present  and  the  past. 

At  Amiens  the  Class  was  brought  into  the  presence  of  a  relic  which 
greatly  excited  the  boys'  wonder. 

"  This  church,"  said  their  guide,  taking  the  Class  to  a  side  chapel 
of  the  cathedral,  "contains  a  very  rare  relic,  —  a  part  of  the  head  of 
John  the  Baptist!" 

Passing  into  the  beautiful  chapel  the  Class  was  shown  the  shrine 
containing  the  precious  treasure,  which  consists  of  the  supposed  frontal 
bone,  and  the  upper  jaw  of  the  saint. 

The  valet  de place  who  accompanied  the  Class  from  the  hotel  seemed 
to  have  no  doubt  of  the  genuineness  of  the  relic,  or  of  the  propriety  of 
adoring  it,  if  indeed  it  were  real,  —  and  he  bowed  reverently  before  the 
shrine. 

"  A  very  rare  relic,"  he  said. 

"  Wonderful !  "  said  Frank.  "  I  did  not  know  that  such  sacred  re- 
mains were  anywhere  to  be  found  as  are  shown  us  in  the  churches  of 
France." 

"  Quite  a  rare  relic,"  said  Master  Lewis,  coolly.  "  I  believe  that, 
previous  to  the  French  Revolution,  several  whole  heads  of  John  the 
Baptist  were  to  be  seen  in  France." 

"  You  do  not  think  that  a  church  like  this  would  be  guilty  of  im- 
posture, do  you  ?  "  asked  Ernest  Wynn. 

"  Not  wilfully.  Most  of  these  French  relics  were  brought  from 
Constantinople  at  the  time  of  the  Crusades.  They  may  be  genuine,  — 
the  people  believe  them  so;  but,  in  the  absence  of  direct  historic 
evidence,  it  is  probable  that  the  Crusaders  were  deceived  in  them  by 
others,  who  in  their  turn  may  have  been  deceived. 

"  You  will  be  shown  wonderful  relics  or  shrines  supposed  to  con- 
tain them,  in  nearly  all  the  great  churches  of  France.  The  French 
people  were  taught  their  reverence  for  relics  by  St.  Louis,  who  sought 
to  enrich  the  churches  of  his  country  with  such  treasures." 


232        ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  Who  was  St.  Louis  ?  "  asked  Ernest. 

"  I  am  glad  to  have  you  ask  the  question,"  said   Master  Lewis. 
"  His  name  meets  you  everywhere  in  France. 


STORY  OF   ST.   LOUIS. 

"  St.  Louis  was  one  of  the  best  men  that  ever  sat  on  a  throne. 
But  he  was  influenced  by  the  superstitions  of  the  times  in  which  he 
lived. 

"  His  mother  was  a  most  noble  and  pious  woman,  and  he  was  a 
dutiful  and  affectionate  son. 

"  It  was  regarded  as  very  pious  at  this  time  for  a  prince  to  go  on  a 
crusade.  St.  Louis  was  taken  sick,  and  he  made  a  vow  that,  if  he  re- 
covered, he  would  become  a  crusader.  On  his  recovery,  he  appointed 
his  mother  regent,  and  sailed  with  forty  thousand  men  for  Cyprus, 
where  he  proceeded  against  Egypt,  thinking  by  the  conquest  of  that 
country  to  open  a  triumphant  way  to  Palestine.  He  was  defeated,  and 
returned  to  France. 

"  He  was  a  model  prince  among  his  own  people.  He  used  to  spend 
a  portion  of  each  day  in  charity,  and  to  feed  an  hundred  or  more 
paupers  every  time  he  went  to  walk.  He  visited  his  own  domestics 
when  they  were  sick ;  he  founded  charities,  which  have  multiplied,  and 
to-day  cause  his  name  to  be  remembered  with  gratitude  almost  every- 
where in  France.  He  made  it  the  aim  of  his  life  to  relieve  suffering 
wherever  it  might  be  found. 

"  It  is  related  of  him,  among  a  multitude  of  stories,  that  he  was  once 
accosted  by  a  poor  woman  standing  at  the  door  of  her  cottage,  who 
held  in  her  hand  a  loaf,  and  said,  — 

"  '  Good  king,  it  is  of  this  bread  that  comes  of  thine  alms  that  my 
poor,  sick  husband  is  sustained.' 

"  The  king  took  the  loaf  and  examined  it. 

" '  It  is  rather  hard  bread,'  said  he  ;  and  he  then  visited  the  sick  man 
himself  and  gave  the  case  his  personal  sympathy. 


IT  IS  RATHER  HARD  BREAD-1 


UPPER   i\ 'ORMA  A'D  Y. 


235 


"  Going  out  on  a  certain  Good  Friday  barefoot  to  distribute  alms, 
he  saw  a  leper  on  the  other  side  of  a  dirty  pond.  He  waded  through 
it  to  the  wretched  man,  gave  him  alms,  then,  taking  his  hand  in  his 
own,  kissed  it.  The  act  greatly  astonished  his  attendants,  but  the  dis- 
ease was  not  communicated  to  him. 


DEATH     OF     ST.     LOUIS. 


"In  1270  he  started  on  a  new  crusade,  but  died  in  Tunis  of  the 
pestilence.  Visions  of  the  conquest  of  the  Holy  City  seemed  to  fill  his 
mind  to  the  last.  He  was  heard  to  exclaim  on  his  death-bed  in  his 
tent,  '  Jerusalem  !  Jerusalem  !  We  will  go  up  to  Jerusalem  ! ' 


236       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


One  of  the  first  places  which  the  Class  sought  out  in  Rouen  was 
the  statue  of  Joan  of  Arc.  It  is  placed  on  a  street  fountain  near  the 
spot  where  the  unfortunate  maid  was  burned.  It  disappointed  our 
tourists,  and  seemed  an  unworthy  tribute  to  such  an  heroic  character. 
The  great  tower,  called  the  Tower  of  Joan  of  Arc,  seemed  a  more 
fitting  reminder  of  her  achievements. 

The  streets  of  Rouen  are  narrow,  but  are  full  of  life.  Rouen  has 
been  called  a  New  Paris,  and  Napoleon  said  that  Havre,  Rouen,  and 

Paris  were  one  city  of  which 
the  river  Seine  was  the 
highway.  The  gable-faced, 
timber-fronted  mansions 
are  interspersed  with  evi- 
dences of  modern  thrift, 
and  the  Rouen  of  romance 
seems  everywhere  disappear- 
ing in  the  Rouen  of  trade. 

The  Cathedral  of  Rouen 
is  a  confusing  pile  of  art; 
it  has  beautiful  rose  win- 
dows, and  its  spire  is  four 
hundred  and  thirty-six  feet 
high.  The  old  church  of 
St.  Ouen,  which  is  larger 
and  more  splendid  than  the 
cathedral,  is  regarded  as 
one  of  the  most  perfect 
specimens  of  Gothic  art  in 
the  world.  It  is  443  feet 
long. 

The  Palais  de  Justice, 
as  the  old  province  house 


INTERIOR    OF    ST.    OUEN. 


UPPER  NORMANDY. 


237 


or  parliament   house   is   called,  is  an  odd   but  picturesque  structure. 
It   lines  three  sides  of  a  public  square. 


PALAIS    DE    JUSTICE,    ROUEN. 


"  To-morrow,"  said  Master  Lewis,  after  a  day  of  sight-seeing  in 
Rouen,  "  we  go  to  the  most  beautiful  city  in  all  the  world." 

"  I  wish  I  knew  more  about  the  history  of  Paris,"  said  Ernest 
Wynn,  "  now  that  it  is  so  near  to  us.  I  think  of  it  as  a  place  of  gayety 
and  splendor,  the  scene  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Massacre,  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  the  Commune.  It  was  the  city  that  Napoleon  seemed  to 
love  more  than  any  thing  else  in  the  world.  What  is  its  early  his- 
tory ?  " 

"You  will  read  in  Julius  Caesar's  Commentaries,  in  your  course  in 
Latin,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  a  brief  account  of  Lutetia,  the  chief  town 
of  the  Parisii,  a  Gallic  tribe  that  the  Romans  conquered.  This,  I  think, 
is  the  oldest  historical  allusion  to  Paris,  as  Lutetia  came  to  be  called.  It 
was  probably  an  old  town  at  the  time  of  the  Roman  invasion ;  it  was 


238       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS, 

chosen  by  Clovis  as  the  seat  of  his  empire  in  the  sixth  century ;  it  be- 
gan to  grow  when  the  Northmen  came  sailing  up  the  Seine  in  their 
strange  ships  to  its  gates,  and  made  it  their  prey.  In  the  tenth  century 
it  became  the  residence  of  Hugh  Capet,  the  founder  of  the  Capetian 
line  of  kings,  and  soon  after  increased  so  rapidly  that  it  doubled  in  size 
and  population.  Under  Henri  of  Navarre,  in  1589,  the  city  began  to 
be  famous  for  its  tendencies  to  gayety  and  splendor.  Louis  the  Great 


NORTHMEN    ON    AN    EXPEDITION. 


lavished  the  wealth  of  France  upon  it,  converting  the  old  ramparts  into 
picturesque  public  walks  or  boulevards,  and  enlarging  and  adorning  its 
palaces  so  that  they  rivalled  the  royal  structures  of  the  East.  Then 
Napoleon  I.  enriched  it  with  the  spoils  of  Europe,  spending  on  it  more 
than  ^4, 000,000  in  twelve  years.  Napoleon  III.  completed  the  work  of 
his  predecessors  by  introducing  into  the  city  all  modern  improvements, 
and  making  Paris  in  every  respect  the  most  magnificent  capital  in 
Europe. 

"  I  have  given  you  in  the  story  of  Charlemagne  and  in  the  visit  to 
Aix-la-Chapelle  a  view  of  the  early  French  Empire ;  in  the  story  of 
St.  Louis  you  have  had  a  glance  at  France  at  the  time  of  the  Cru- 
sades ;  I  think  I  will  here  tell  you  a  story  which  will  present  to  you 
another  period  of  the  nation's  history: 


THE   BARQUES  OK  THE   NORTHMEN    BEFORE   PARIS- 


UPPER  NORMANDY. 


24I 


STORY   OF   CHARLES   IX.   AND   ST.   BARTHOLOMEW'S   EVE. 

"  Charles  IX.,  the  twelfth  king  of  the  family  of  Valois,  came  to  the 
French  throne  when  only  ten 
years  of  age,  under  the  regency 
of  his  mother,  that  terrible  wo- 
man, Catharine  de  Medici.  He 
was  an  impulsive  youth,  restless 
and  vacillating,  and  was  left 
wholly  to  the  evil  influences  of 
his  mother.  The  first  years  of 
his  reign  were  disturbed  by  the 
struggles  between  the  Protest- 
ant and  Catholic  parties  in 
France.  These  difficulties  were 
apparently  settled  in  1569. 

"  The  queen-mother,  who  was 
a  Catholic,  seemed  to  entertain 
kind  feelings  towards  the  Pro- 
testant leaders.  The  Protestant 
King  of  Navarre  was  promised  the  hand  of  the  king's  sister  Margue- 
rite, and  marked  courtesy  and  apparent  kindness  of  feeling  were  shown 
by  the  royal  household  to  many  of  the  leading  men  of  the  greaf 
Protestant  party.  The  latter  were  thus  rendered  unsuspicious  of 
danger,  and  became  almost  wholly  disarmed. 

"  But  Catharine  de  Medici,  full  of  craft  and  wickedness,  had  resolved 
to  destroy  the  Protestant  power.  She  was  fully  versed  in  crime,  and 
the  passion  for  dark  deeds  grew  upon  her  with  years.  One  day  she 
went  to  the  boy-king,  Charles,  and  disclosed  a  plot  for  the  massacre  of 
the  Protestants  of  France.  He  listened  with  a  feeling  of  horror.  He 
had  learned  to  Tove  the  Protestant  statesmen,  and  to  call  their  great 


CATHARINE    DE    MEDICI. 


242       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

leader,  Coligny,  '  father.'  His  young  heart  recoiled  from  such  a  deed. 
But  his  mother  gave  him  no  rest.  She  confided  her  plot  to  the  Catho- 
lic leaders,  who  joined  hand  in  hand  with  her  to  accomplish  the  crime. 
Church  and  State  united  to  persuade  the  young  king  that  the  stability 
of  the  throne,  the  glory  of  his  family,  and  the  advancement  of  religious 
truth  demanded  the  slaughter  of  the  Huguenots,  as  the  Protestant 
party  were  called.  Still  he  hesitated  ;  but  after  a  little  while  exhibited 
his  characteristic  weakness  under  the  influence  of  persuasion,  and  the 
conspirators  knew  his  final  assent  was  certain. 

"  St.  Bartholomew's  Day  was  at  hand,  the  time  appointed  by  the 
Catholic  leaders,  the  Guises,  for  the  work  of  death.  Paris  was  full  of 
Huguenots  from  the  principal  provincial  cities,  who  had  been  drawn 
hither  by  the  magnificent  wedding  of  the  Protestant  King  of  Navarre. 
The  preparations  for  the  massacre  were  nearly  complete,  but  the  young 
king  still  hesitated  to  issue  the  fatal  order. 

"  His  mother  now  used  every  art  in  her  power  to  make  him  place 
himself  boldly  with  the  Guises.  As  he  was  king,  she  wished  the  sanc- 
tion of  a  royal  edict  to  do  her  bloody  work.  With  this  the  preparations 
for  the  destruction  of  the  Huguenots  would  be  complete.  Her  appeals 
at  length  so  wrought  upon  his  mind  that  he  excitedly  exclaimed, 
*  Well,  then,  kill  them !  kill  them  all,  that  not  a  single  Huguenot  may 
live  to  reproach  me ! '  This  frantic  remark  was  construed  as  an  order. 
•(. "  The  massacre  was  appointed  to  begin  on  St.  Bartholomew's  Eve, 
at  the  tolling  of  a  bell.  The  young  king  was  fearfully  nervous  and 
agitated  during  the  preceding  day.  Just  before  the  fatal  hour,  his  con- 
science had  so  affected  his  better  feelings,  that  he  despatched  orders  to 
the  Due  de  Guise,  countermanding  the  slaughter.  The  duke  re- 
ceived the  message  as  he  was  in  the  act  of  mounting  his  horse  to  lead 
the  assassins. 

"  'Ilest  trop  tard T  '  It  is  too  late  ! '  said  the  duke  to  the  bearer, 
and  at  once  rode  away. 

"  It  was  a  still  night,  August  24,  1572.     The  defenceless  Hugue- 


COLIGNY. 


UPPER  NORMANDY.  245 

nots  were  unsuspicious  of  danger,  while  armed  assassins  were  lurking 
in  every  house.  At  last  the  heavy  clang  of  a  great  bell  fell  on  the 
breathless  evening  air,  and  the  slaughter  began. 

"  All  that  summer  night  the  streets  ran  with  blood.  The  young 
and  the  old,  the  daughter,  the  mother,  the  nobleman  and  the  beggar, 
—  all  who  bore  the  name  of  Huguenot,  —  were  cut  off  without  mercy. 
None  were  spared.  Even  women  murdered  women,  and  children,  it  is 
said,  impelled  by  the  maddening  example,  applied  the  dagger  to  other 
children  in  their  beds.  The  streets  of  Paris  ran  with  blood.  From 
thirty  to  seventy  thousand  persons  were  slain  in  the  city  and  in  the 
towns  of  France  on  this  night  and  a  few  days  following  it. 

"  The  new  Queen  of  Navarre,  Marguerite  de  Valois,  had  gone  to 
bed  on  the  fatal  eve,  by  the  express  order  of  Catharine.  Just  as  she 
was  going  to  sleep,  she  says,  a  man  knocked  with  hands  and  feet  at 
her  door,  shouting  '  Navarre  !  Navarre  ! '  The  nurse,  thinking  it  was 
the  king,  opened  the  door.  A  Protestant  gentleman,  bleeding,  and 
pursued  by  four  archers,  threw  himself  on  her  bed  for  protection.  The 
archers  rushed  after  him,  but  were  stayed  by  the  appearance  of  the 
captain  of  the  guard.  The  young  queen  hid  the  wounded  Huguenot 
in  one  of  her  closets,  and  cared  for  him  until  he  was  able  to  escape. 
Such  scenes  took  place  in  nearly  all  the  houses  of  the  nobility. 

"  Coligny  was  rudely  murdered,  and  his  body  thrown  out  of  the  win- 
dow of  his  apartments  into  the  courtyard,  where  it  is  said  to  have  been 
kicked  by  the  Due  de  Guise.  The  young  king  was  in  a  court  of  the 
palace  of  the  Louvre,  with  his  mother,  when  the  great  bell  began  to  toll. 
At  first  he  trembled  with  fear  and  horror.  He  recovered  presently 
from  his  fear,  and,  running  to  the  palace  window,  became  so  excited  at 
the  sight  of  blood  that  he  fired  upon  the  wretched  fugitives  who  were 
attempting  to  escape  by  swimming  across  the  Seine. 

"  But  the  young  king  never  knew  a  happy  hour  after  that  dreadful 
night.  He  grew  pale  and  thin,  and  his  tortured  conscience  and  shat- 
tered brain  called  up  in  his  solitary  hours  the  images  of  the  slain. 


246       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  Two  years  after  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Eve  the  young 
king  lay  dying.  His  disease,  it  has  been  said,  was  caused  by  poison, 
which  had  been  applied  to  the  leaves  of  one  of  his  favorite  books  for 
the  purpose,  by  his  unnatural  mother.  His  sufferings  were  dreadful  in 
the  extreme.  Historians  tell  us  that  he  sweat  drops  of  blood.  His 
mental  anguish  was  as  fearful  as  his  bodily  distress.  He  would  cry 
out  to  his  nurse,  '  Ah,  nourrice,  ma  mie,  ma  bonne  !  que  du  sang,  que 
cT assassinats  !  Oh  quels  mauvais  conseils  j  'at  suivis  !  Oh  Seigneur 
Dieu,  pardonnez  moi,  et  faites  moi  misericorde  ! '  '  Ah,  nurse,  my  good 
nurse!  What  blood!  What  murders!  Oh  what  bad  counsels  I  fol- 
lowed !  Lord  God,  pardon  me !  Have  mercy  on  me  ! ' 

"  Historians  cover  the  memory  of  Charles  IX.  with  infamy,  but  his 
first  impulses  were  usually  kind,  and  his  first  intentions  good.  He 
does  not  seem  to  have  inherited  the  disposition  of  that  monster  of  wick- 
edness, his  mother.  His  most  evil  acts  could  hardly  be  called  his  own. 
Left  to  himself  he  would  have  been  deemed  a  most  polished  and  amia- 
ble prince,  though  wanting  in  decision.  As  a  victim  of  bad  counsel- 
lors, pity  should  mingle  with  the  censure  that  follows  his  name." 


CHARLES   l\.  AND  CATHARINE   DE   MEDICI 


CHAPTER    XV. 

PARIS. 

PARIS  THE  BEAUTIFUL.  —  NOTRE  DAME.  —  TUILERIES  AND  LOUVRE.  —  GARDEN  OF  THE 
TUILERIES.  —  BOIS  DE  BOULOGNE.  —  CHURCH  OF  THE  INVALIDES.  —  NAPOLEON'S 
TOMB.  —  PLACE  DE  LA  CONCORDE.  —  STORY  OF  THE  MAN  OF  THE  IRON  MASK.  —  VER- 
SAILLES AND  THE  TRIANONS.  —  STORY  OF  THE  DAUPHIN.  —  FONTAINEBLEAU.  —  THE 
SEINE.  —  WATER  OMNIBUSSES.  —  A  WONDERFUL  BOAT.  —  TOMMY'S  FRENCH. —A 
SURPRISE.  —  ST.  EUSTACHE.  —  MOLIERE. —  YOUNG  FRENCH  HEROES.  — WYLLYS  WYNN'S 
POEM. 

the  beautiful! 

City  of  light  hearts,  smiling  faces,  charming  courtesies, 
and  gay  scenes  everywhere  ! 

City  of  dark  tragedies  of  history  that  have  hardly  left 
behind  a  scar !  The  tropical  forest  gives  no  warning  of  poison  lurking 
under  the  flowers ;  the  bright  Southern  sky  wears  no  trace  of  the  tem- 
pest. Paris  says  to  the  stranger,  "  I  am  beautiful :  I  have  ever  been 
beautiful,  and  I  wear  loveliness  like  a  crown." 

The  streets  are  as  gay  as  the  summer  sunshine  in  them ;  the  boule- 
vards, as  the  wide  streets  and  avenues  for  pleasure  walks  are  called, 
seem  channels  of  happiness,  through  which  the  tides  of  life  run  as 
brightly  as  they  glimmer  along  the  Seine.  "  La  belle  Paris!  "  says  the 
stranger  as  he  comes,  and  "  La  belle  Paris  !  "  he  utters*  respectfully  as 
he  goes. 

We  do  not  wonder  that  the  French  love  it ;  that  Napoleon  gloried 
in  it,  and  that  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  left  it  with  a  heavy  heart.  Here 
human  nature  has  light,  warmth,  and  glow;  and  love,  sympathy,  and 
patriotism  are  everywhere  to  be  seen. 

"  Where  are  the  ruins  caused  by  the  siege  and  the  Commune  ? " 
asked  Frank  Gray,  after  the  Class  had  been  driven  through  a  number 


250      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

of  streets.  "  I  do  not  see  the  first  sign  of  there  having  been  a  recent 
war  and  revolution." 

"  In  the  fall  of  1870,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  shot  and  shell  for  a  long 
period  fell  around  the  city  and  into  it  like  rain.  In  the  following 
spring  the  Commune  was  declared  the  government  of  Paris,  and  it 
seemed  bent  on  destroying  the  city's  beauty,  and  overturning  its  monu- 
ments of  art.  The  Vendome  Column,  which  celebrated  the  victories 
of  Napoleon  the  Great,  was  pulled  down  as  a  monument  of  tyranny ; 
the  Palace  of  the  Tuileries  and  the  Hotel  de  Ville  were  set  on  fire ; 
and  the  wealthy  citizens  who  had  endured  the  siege  by  a  foreign  foe 
fled  from  their  own  countrymen.  To-day  most  of  the  houses  destroyed 
by  the  war  and  the  Commune  are  rebuilt,  and  the  streets  are  as  splen- 
did as  in  the  gay  days  of  the  Empire." 

The  Class  took  rooms  in  the  Grand  Hotel,  one  of  the  largest  and 
finest  houses  for  public  entertainment  in  Europe.  Its  first  visit  was 
to  the  ancient  Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  whose  history  is  as  old  as 
Christianity  in  France,  and  which  even  before  that  period  was  a  Pagan 
temple.  Here  Te  Deums  for  all  of  the  nation's  victories  have  been 
sung ;  funeral  orations  of  kings  have  been  pronounced,  confessions  of 
sin  for  a  thousand  years  have  been  made,  and  masses  innumerable  cele- 
brated. Here  Napoleon  the  Great  was  crowned,  and  Napoleon  III. 
was  married.  Here  the  Goddess  of  Reason,  after  being  borne  through 
the  streets  in  state,  was  enthroned  during  the  Revolution  of  1793.  It 
has  thirty-seven  chapels. 

In  entering  the  cathedral  the  Class  seemed  to  be  in  a  new  world. 
The  rose-colored  windows  flooded  the  edifice  with  a  soft  light;  and 
beyond  it  was  a  blaze  of  candles  amid  clouds  of  incense,  for  the  priests 
in  their  gorgeous  vestments  were  administering  at  the  altar. 

The  boys  passed  through  the  waves  of  light  reverently,  and  stood 
near  the  altar.  A  choir  of  altar  boys  suddenly  rose  amid  the  smoke 
and  lights  and  glitter  of  priestly  robes,  and  sang  most  melodiously.  It 
seemed  very  solemn  and  grand,  but  the  thought  of  the  associations  of 


PARIS. 


253 


the  place  was  even  more  awe-inspiring.  The  scene  was  one  that  had 
been  enacted  for  more  than  a  thousand  years,  under  the  groined  roof  of 
the  same  stately  edifice,  and  the  past  seemed  to  hang,  a  weight  of  gloom, 
in  the  very  air. 

On  each  one's  paying  half  a  franc,  the  Class  was  admitted  into  the 
sacristy,  where  the  sacred  relics,  purchased  in  the  East  by  St.  Louis 
himself,  are  kept.  Among  them  is  a  supposed  piece  of  the  true  cross 
and  a  pretended  part  of  the  Crown  of  Thorns  which  was  put  upon  the 
Saviour's  head,  before  the  Crucifixion. 

The  second  day  that  the  Class  spent  in  Paris  was  the  most  delightful 
of  the  whole  tour. 

"  I  shall  go  with  you  to-day,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  to  the  most  beau- 
tiful place  in  Europe,  the  most  beautiful  garden  in  Europe,  and  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  picture-galleries  in  the  world.'; 

"  The  Tuileries  ?  "  asked  Frank. 

"  The  Louvre  ?  "  asked  Ernest. 

"  Both,"  said  Master  Lewis. 

"  The  Tuileries  and  the  Louvre  are  now  one.  Francis  I.  began  the 
building  of  the  Louvre  in  1541  ;  Catharine  de  Medici  commenced  the 
Tuileries  in  1564;  Napoleon  III.  united  the  two  palaces  in  the  four 
years  following  1852.  The  two  palaces  have  been  growing  about  three 
hundred  years.  The  Tuileries  was  partly  burned  by  the  Commune. 
The  united  palaces  cover  twenty-four  acres.  Think  of  it !  Twenty- 
four  acres  of  art,  ornament,  pictures,  and  splendor !  " 

The  garden  of  the  Tuileries  is  the  favorite  promenade  of  wealthy 
and  fashionable  Parisians,  and  seemed  to  the  boys  too  beautiful  for 
reality.  Graceful  statues  rise  on  every  hand  from  flower-beds,  bowers, 
by  cool  fountains,  and  in  the  shade  of  grand  old  trees,  —  statues  in  mar- 
ble, stone,  and  bronze ;  Grecian,  Roman,  French.  Airy  terraces,  basins 
bordered  with  rich  foliage  and  gorgeous  flowers  carry  the  eye  hither 
and  thither,  and  call  out  some  new  expression  of  admiration  at  almost 
every,  step. 


254       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  How  happy  the  life  of  a  French  king  must  have  been !  "  said 
Tommy  Toby. 

"  How  unhappy  the  lives  of  French  kings  have  been  ! "  said  Master 
Lewis.  "  If  you  would  have  a  view  of  royalty  that  makes  a  peasant's 
life  seem  desirable,  read  the  history  of  the  old  French  kings." 

The  beautiful  forests  of  France  extend  to  the  very  outskirts  of  the 
city.  One  of  these,  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  is  the  favorite  park  of  Paris. 
It  contains  more  than  two  thousand  acres.  It  has  an  immense  aqua- 
rium, pavilions  of  birds,  and  a  garden  for  ostriches  and  cassowaries, 
and  its  principal  avenue  is  one  hundred  yards  wide. 

The  Class  visited  this  park  on  a  beautiful  afternoon,  passing  through 
the  Champs  Elysees,  a  splendid  avenue  filled  with  equipages.  In  this 
walk  the  boys  saw  the  famous  Arc  de  Triomphe  and  the  Palais  de 
^Industrie,  in  which  the  World's  Fair  was  held  in  1855,  when  nearly 
two  million  strangers  beheld  Paris  in  her  glory.  The  Arc  de  Triomphe 
was  begun  in  1806,  the  year  of  the  battle  of  Austerlitz,  and  was  fin- 
ished by  Louis  Philippe.  It  commemorates  the  victories  of  Napoleon, 
and  is  the  most  magnificent  imperial  monument  in  the  world. 

No  scene  in  Paris  seemed  to  inspire  a  part  of  the  Class  with  so  much 
awe  as  the  tomb  of  Napoleon.  At  the  entrance  to  the  crypt  of  the 
dome  of  the  church  of  the  Invalides,  containing  the  conqueror's 
remains,  are  these  words :  "  I  desire  that  my  ashes  may  rest  on  the 
banks  of  the  Seine,  in  the  midst  of  the  French  people  whom  I  have 
loved  so  well." 

From  a  balustrade  above  the  tomb  under  the  beautiful  dome  the 
boys  looked  down  in  silence  on  the  sarcophagus,  or  stone  coffin,  which 
is  of  Finland  granite.  The  monolith  on  which  it  rests  is  porphyry,  and 
weighs  130,000  pounds.  The  monument  cost  nine  million  francs. 

A  beautifully  tinted  light  fell  upon  the  sarcophagus. 

"  Look,"  said  Tommy,  "  see  - 

An  armed  guard  approached,  with  a  solemn  gesture  of  the  hand. 
He  simply  said,  — 

"  Be  reverent." 


GARDEN  OF  THE  TUILERIES. 


PARIS.  257 


The  Hotel  des  Invalides,  an  asylum  for  disabled  soldiers,  of  which 
the  church  and  dome  are  a  part,  was  founded  by  Louis  XIV.  The 
dome  is  gilded,  and  is  three  hundred  and  thirty  feet  high. 


FOUNTAIN    IN    THE    CHAMPS    ELYSfiES. 

Ernest  Wynn,  who  seemed  to  have  a  part  of  some  old  ballad  always 
upon  his  lips,  repeated  some  fine  lines  to  Master  Lewis  as  they  went 
out  of  the  church,  —  a  quotation  from  an  old  song,  entitled  "Napo- 
leon's Grave."  (At  St.  Helena.) 

"  Though  nations  may  combat  and  war's  thunders  rattle, 
No  more  on  thy  steed  wilt  thou  sweep  o'er  the  plain  ; 
Thou  sleep'st  thy  last  sleep,  thou  hast  fought  thy  last  battle, 
No  sound  can  awake  thee  to  glory  again." 


258       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LA  ADS. 

The  delightful  Place  de  la  Concorde,  which  is  between  the  Garden  of 
the  Tuileries  and  the  Champs  Elysees,  and  which  has  been  called  the 
most  delightful  spot  in  any  European  city,  had  been  passed  through 
by  the  Class  in  their  walk  to  the  park,  and  it  was  decided  to  give  an 
afternoon  to  a  visit  to  it.  Here  stands  the  obelisk  of  Luxor,  brought 
from  the  ruins  of  Thebes. 


PLACE    DE    LA    CONCORDE. 


Here  stood  the  guillotine,  or  rather  the  guillotines,  on  which  Louis 
XIV.  and  Marie  Antoinette  and  nearly  three  thousand  persons  per- 
ished. Here  revolutionists  cut  off  the  heads  of  the  royal  family,  and 
the  people  the  heads  of  the  revolutionists. 


ENTRANCE   TO  THE    LOL'VKK 


PARIS. 


26l 


Two  beautiful  fountains  were  playing  on  the  afternoon  when  the 
Class  made  their  visit.  The  sky  was  all  rose  and  gold ;  the  Seine  flowed 
calmly  along ;  the  aspect  of  every  thing  seemed  as  foreign  to  any  past 
association  of  war,  tragedy,  and  pangs  of  human  suffering  as  the 
figures  of  the  Tritons  and  Nereids  that  were  spouting  water  from  the 
fishes  in  their  hands. 


FOUNTAIN,     PLACE    DE    LA    CONCORDE. 


Leaving  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  which  Master  Lewis  said  he 
believed  was  constructed  in  part  of  stones  of  the  old  Bastile,  the  Class 
went  to  the  public  square  where  the  Bastile  had  stood. 

"  The  Place  of  the  Bastile,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  now  adorned  by 


262       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

the  Column  of  Liberty,  is  the  site  of  the  old  Castle  of  Paris,  which  was 
built  as  a  defence  against  the  English.  The  castle  became  a  prison 
for  people  who  offended  the  French  kings.  The  Man  of  the  Iron 
Mask  was  confined  here.  It  was  regarded  as  an  obstacle  to  liberty,  and 
it  was  stormed  by  the  people  during  the  Revolution,  and  destroyed." 

"  Who  was  the  Man  of  the  Iron  Mask  ?  "  asked  Tommy  Toby. 

"  That  is  a  question  that  used  to  be  asked  by  all  the  statesmen  of 
Europe,  and  that  has  been  repeated  and  always  will  be  by  every 
reader  of  history.  It  has  been  answered  in  many  different  ways. 
Books,  pamphlets,  and  essays  have  been  written  upon  the  subject.  It 
is  still  a  secret,  and  seems  destined  always  to  remain  so.  I  will  give 
you  briefly  the  strange  history  of  this  State  prisoner." 


THE    MAX    OF    THE    IRON    MASK. 

"  During  the  reign  of  that  voluptuous  old  monarch,  Louis  XIV.  of 
France,  there  appeared  on  one  of  the  Marguerite  Islands,  in  the 
Mediterranean,  a  prisoner  of  State  closely  guarded,  and  entrusted 
to  the  especial  care  of  a  French  governmental  officer,  De  Saint 
Mars. 

"  Although  confined  in  this  obscure  spot  in  the  sea,  where  but  little 
was  seen  or  heard  save  a  distant  sail  and  the  dashing  of  waters,  he 
became  a  marked  man  among  the  few  who  chanced  to  meet  him,  and 
the  circumstance  of  his  concealment  was  in  danger  of  being  noised 
abroad.  He  was  consequently  removed  to  Paris,  and  immured  in  the 
cells  of  the  Bastile. 

"  From  the  time  that  he  began  to  attract  attention  on  the  island  in 
the  Mediterranean  to  the  close  of  his  protracted  life,  no  one  but  his 
appointed  attendants  is  known  to  have  seen  his  face. 

"  His  head  was  enveloped  in  a  black-velvet  mask,  confined  by 
springs  of  steel,  and  so  arranged  that  he  could  not  reveal  his  features 
without  immediate  detection. 


MAN  OF  THK   IRON   MASK. 


PARIS. 


265 


"  His  guardian,  De  Saint  Mars,  had  been  instructed  by  a  royal 
order,  or  by  an  order  from  certain  of  the  king's  favorites,  to  take  his 
life  immediately,  should  he  attempt  to  reveal  his  identity. 

"  During  his  confinement  on  the  Marguerite  island,  De  Saint  Mars 
ate  and  slept  in  the  same  room  with  him,  and  was  always  provided  with 
weapons  with  which  to  despatch  him,  should  he  attempt  to  discover 
the  secret  of  his  history.  If  report  is  true,  De  Saint  Mars  might  well 
exercise  caution,  for  it  is  asserted  that  he  was  to  forfeit  his  own  life  if 
by  any  want  of  watchfulness  he  allowed  the  prisoner  to  reveal  his 
identity. 

"  The  prisoner  himself  seemed  anxious  to  make  the  forbidden  dis- 
covery. He  once  wrote  a  word  on  some  linen,  and  succeeded  in  com- 
municating what  he  wished  to  an  individual  not  in  the  secret  of  the 
mystery.  But  the  ruse  was  discovered,  and  the  person  that  received 
the  linen  died  suddenly,  being  taken  off,  it  was  supposed,  by  poison. 
He  once  engraved  something,  probably  his  name,  on  a  piece  of  silver 
plate.  The  person  to  whom  it  was  conveyed  was  detected  in  his 
knowledge  of  the  secret,  and  soon  after  died,  as  suddenly  and  myste- 
riously as  the  one  who  had  received  the  linen. 

"  These  incidents  indicate  that  the  prisoner  was  a  man  of  shrewd- 
ness and  learning. 

"  He  was  attended,  during  his  imprisonment  in  the  Bastile,  by  the 
governor  of  the  fortress,  who  alone  administered  to  his  wants;  and 
when  he  attended  mass  he  was  always  followed  by  a  detachment  of 
invalides  (French  soldiers),  who  were  instructed  to  fire  upon  him  in 
case  he  should  speak  or  attempt  to  uncover  his  face. 

"  These  circumstances,  and  many  others  of  like  character,  show  that 
he  was  a  person  of  very  eminent  rank,  and  that  those  who  thus  shut 
him  out  from  mankind  were  conscious  that  they  were  committing  a 
crime  of  no  ordinary  magnitude. 

"  Who,  then,  was  this  person  of  mystery,  familiarly  known  as  the 
Man  of  the  Iron  Mask? 


266       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  He  is  supposed  by  many  to  have  been  a  son  of  Anne  of  Austria 
and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  consequently  a  half-brother  of 
Louis  XIV.,  and  a  co-heir  to  the  throne  of  France.  If  so,  it  would 
appear,  that,  while  Louis  XIV.  was  luxuriating  amid  the  splendors  of 
the  palace  of  Versailles,  his  brother  was  suffering  the  miseries  of  exile, 
or  languishing  in  a  dungeon,  shut  out  not  only  from  the  outward 
world,  but  from  all  intercourse  with  mankind.  But  other  writers  think 
him  to  have  been  some  less  remarkable  person. 

"  The  iron  mask,  of  which  frequent  mention  has  been  made  in 
sensational  books,  was  a  very  simple  contrivance  of  velvet  and  springs 
of  steel." 

The  Class  made  two  excursions  from  Paris,  one  to  Versailles  and 
the  other  to  Fontainebleau. 

Versailles,  a  town  of  30,000  inhabitants,  which  has  grown  up  around 
one  of  the  finest  palaces  and  parks  of  Europe,  was  originally  the  hunt- 
ing-lodge of  Louis  XIII.  Louis  XIV.  chose  the  place  for  a  palace, 
and  employed  almost  an  army  of  men  for  eleven  years  upon  the  struc- 
ture. He  spent  upon  this  palace  nearly  ^40,000,000  sterling.  Thither 
in  1680  he  removed  his  gay  court,  and  here  he  passed  in  gloomy 
grandeur  his  melancholy  old  age. 

It  is  a  place  of  beautiful  gardens,  wonderful  fountains,  fine  statues, 
and  walks  associated  with  the  history  of  kings,  queens,  statesmen,  and 
scholars.  The  palace  to  the  visitor  seems  a  vast  picture  gallery, 
wherein  is  shown  the  conquests  of  France.  It  is  a  long  journey 
through  the  glittering  rooms.  Here  you  see  the  representation  of 
a  king  in  his  moment  of  triumph,  adored  as  a  god,  and  there  you  see 
the  same  king  overthrown  or  stretched  upon  his  bed  of  death.  The 
fountains  murmur,  the  orange  trees  fill  the  air  with  perfume,  and 
you  turn  from  the  exhibition  of  the  glowing  and  faded  pomps  of  his- 
tory to  the  gardens,  feeling  that  after  all  man's  only  nobility  and  king- 
ship and  hope  of  a  crown  lies  in  his  soul,  and  it  is  virtue  alone  that 
makes  one  royal. 


PARIS. 


267 


Two  small  palaces  or  villas  in  the  Park  of  Versailles,  called  Great 
Trianon  and  Little  Trianon,  recalled  to  Master  Lewis  the  happy  days 
of  the  life  of  Marie  Antoinette,  which  she  spent  here  while  the  unseen 
cloud  of  the  Revolution  was  gathering,  and  the  calm  settled  down  on 
Paris  before  the  storm. 


VERSAILLES 


"  We  have  seen  the  places  where  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette 
lived  and  were  beheaded.  What  became  of  their  children  ? "  asked 
Frank  Gray? 

"  The  oldest  son  of  Louis  XVI.  died  at  the  beginning  of  the  Revo- 
lution. As  it  may  give  you  a  picture  of  the  stormy  times  of  the 
period,  let  me  tell  you 


268       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 


THE    STORY    OF    THE    DAUPHIN. 

41  He  was  born  at  Versailles  in  1785.  He  was  a  most  affectionate 
child,  and  was  ardently  attached  to  his  mother.  He  used  to  sport  about 
the  gardens  of  the  palace;  the  very  place  where  we  are  now  was  his 
play-ground. 

"  He  would  sometimes  rise  early  in  the  morning  to  gather  flowers 
from  the  gardens  to  lay  on  his  mother's  pillow. 

"  '  Ah  ! '  he  would  say,  when  weary  of  play,  '  I  have  not  earned  the 
first  kiss  from  mother  to-day.' 


LITTLE    TRIANON. 


PARIS. 


271 


"  The  Revolution  came  and  cast  a  shadow  over  Versailles,  with  all 
its  glory.  The  royal  family  was  surrounded  with  enemies,  and  was 
in  constant  terror,  and  the  little  dauphin  was  made  unhappy  by  the 
sight  of  his  mother's  tears. 

"  One  day  a  serving-woman  told  him  that  if  he  would  procure  some 
favor  for  her  she  would  be  happy  as  a  queen. 

"  '  As  happy  as  a  queen  ! '  he  answered  :  '  I  know  of  one  queen  who 
does  nothing  but  weep.' 

"  The  Revolutionists  overthrew  the  Bastile  and  the  throne,  and  the 
members  of  the  royal  family  were  obliged  to  seek  protection  in  the 
National  Assembly.  They  were  then  confined  in  an  old  French  prison, 
called  the  Temple. 

"  The  king  was  tried  by  the  Assembly,  was  condemned  and  exe- 
cuted. He  deeply  loved  the  dauphin,  and  parted  from  him  with  bitter 
grief. 

"  After  the  king's  death  the  dauphin  was  the  principal  solace  of 
the  queen  in  her  imprisonment.  He  was  at  last  removed  from  the 
queen's  apartment  by  an  order  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety.  It 
is  related  that  when  the  guards  came  to  take  him  away,  his  mother 
fought  for  him  until  her  strength  was  exhausted,  and  she  fell  senseless 
upon  the  floor. 

"  After  the  execution  of  his  mother  he  was  given  over  to  the  care 
of  a  brutal  shoemaker,  named  Simon,  who  endeavored  to  cause  his 
death  without  committing  palpable  murder.  He  was  ill-fed,  beaten 
and  abused,  and  received  the  name  of  the  '  She-wolf's  Whelp,'  refer- 
ring to  Marie  Antoinette. 

"  At  this  period  the  police  were  in  the  habit  of  distributing  in  the 
streets  songs  against  '  Madame  Veto,'  as  the  queen  had  been  called. 
One  of  the  most  infamous  of  these,  as  vulgar  as  it  was  brutal,  had  been 
preserved  by  Simon. 

"  One  day,  for  the  want  of  a  new  torture  for  the  child,  Simon 
resolved  to  make  him  sing  this  obscene  song  against  his  mother. 


272       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OK,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

'"Come  along,  Capet,'  said  he,  'here  is  a  new  song. which  you 
must  sing  to  me.' 

"  He  handed  the  song  to  the  dauphin.  The  boy  saw  its  meaning, 
and  with  all  the  instincts  of  a  susceptible  nature  he  recoiled  from  the 
thought  of  reviling  his  mother.  He  laid  it  down  on  the  table  without 

o  o 

saying  a  word. 

"  Simon  arose  in  wrath. 

" '  I  thought  I  said  you  must  sing.' 

" '  I  never  will  sing  such  a  song.' 

" '  I  declare  to  you  that  I  will  kill  you  if  you  refuse  to  obey  me.' 

"'Never!' 

"  Simon  caught  up  an  andiron,  and  threw  it  at  the  child  with  a 
force  that  would  have  proved  fatal  had  he  not  missed  his  aim.  His 
passion  then  gradually  subsided,  but  the  boy  refused  to  sing. 

"  One  day,  after  a  system  of  abuses  too  shocking  to  relate,  Simon 
seized  the  dauphin  by  the  ear,  and  drawing  him  to  the  middle  of  the 
apartment,  said, — 

" '  Capet,  if  the  Vendeans  were  to  set  you  at  liberty,  what  would 
you  do  to  me  ? ' 

"  '  I  would  forgive  you,'  replied  the  noble  boy. 

"  His  situation  at  last  became  wretched  in  the  extreme.  He  was 
placed  in  a  filthy  cell  where  he  could  neither  receive  pure  air  nor  have 
exercise ;  his  food  was  scanty,  his  bed  was  not  made  for  six  months, 
and  his  clothes  were  not  changed  for  a  year.  He  became  covered  with 
vermin,  and  the  mice  used  to  nibble  at  his  feet.  He  passed  the  days 
in  utter  silence,  washing  only  to  die.  Once,  when  he  had  attempted  to 
pray  kneeling,  he  had  been  discovered  and  terribly  punished,  and  he 
felt  that  it  was  not  safe  for  him  to  speak  even  to  his  God. 

"  After  the  overthrow  of  the  Revolutionary  government  under 
Robespierre,  he  was  assigned  to  more  merciful  keepers.  But  his  body 
and  mind  were  in  ruins,  and  all  efforts  to  restore  him  proved  in  vain. 

"  It  was  a  lovely  June  day  in  the  summer  of  1795.  He  was  dying; 
without,  the  air  was  full  of  sunshine,  of  birds  and  roses. 


PARIS. 


273 


"  'Are  you  in  pain  ? '  asked  his  attendant. 

u '  Yes,'  he  said ;  '  but  not  in  so  much  as  I  was,  the  musk  is  so 
sweet' 

"  He  presently  added ;  '  Do  you  not  hear  the  music  ? ' 

"  '  From  whence  does  it  come  ? ' 

" '  From  above.' 

"  His  eyes  became  luminous ;  he  seemed  happy  and  peaceful,  and 
he  fancied  that  among  the  voices  that  seemed  to  be  singing  around 
him  he  could  distinguish  that  of  his  mother.  It  may  have  been  all 
but  a  dream  or  fancy,  but  it  grew  out  of  the  filial  devotion  of  his 
heart." 


FOREST    OF     FONTAINEBLEAU. 


Fontainebleau  is  one  of  the  most  ancient  palaces  of  France ;  it  is  a 
labyrinth  of  galleries,  salons,  amphitheatres,  secret  chambers,  and  fan- 
tastic balconies.  To  traverse  the  palace  is  a  journey.  Like  all  the  old 


274       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

French  palaces,  it  is  surrounded  with  gardens,  parks,  and  has  its  wood 
or  forest.  Indeed,  the  town  of  Fontainebleau  ts  situated  in  a  forest, 
which  covers  an  extent  of  sixty-four  miles. 


IN    THE    WOOD    AT     FONTAINEBLEAU. 


"  Artists,  poets,  romancers,  and  lovers."  says  a  writer,  "  have  from 
time  immemorial  made  the  forest  of  Fontainebleau  the  empire  of  their 
dreams.  You  ought  to  see  it  in  the  morning,  when  the  bird  sings, 


PARIS. 


275 


when  the  sun  shines,  .  .  .  when  all  these  stones,  heaped  beneath  those 
aged  trees,  take  a  thousand  fantastic  forms,  and  give  to  it  the  appear- 
ance of  the  plain  on  which  the  Titans  fought  against  Heaven.  Oh, 
what  terrible  and  touching  histories,  stories  of  hunting  and  of  love,  of 
treason  and  vengeance,  this  forest  has  covered  with  its  shadow ! " 

St.  Louis  loved  this  forest,  and  Napoleon  signed  his  abdication  at 
Fontainebleau. 

Master  Lewis  had  allowed  the  boys  to  have  a  day  to  themselves  in 
each  of  the  principal  places  where  they  had  stopped.  If  one  of  them 
wished  to  make  an  excursion  on  that  day  to  some  neighboring  place, 
the  good  teacher  made  some  careful  arrangement  for  that  one  to  do  so. 
He  was  very  careful  about  all  matters  of  this  kind,  without  really  seem- 
ing to  distrust  the  boys'  judgment  in  their  efforts  to  look  out  for  them- 
selves. A  coach-driver,  a  traveller,  a  valet-de-place,  or  some  person 
was  usually  employed  to  have  an  eye  on  the  member  of  the  Class  who 
was  allowed  to  make  a  tour  to  a  strange  place  alone. 

The  boys,  with  the  exception  of  Tommy  Toby,  were  given  a  day  to 
go  where  they  liked  in  Paris.  Master  Lewis  did  not  dare  to  allow 
Tommy  this  privilege,  after  his  misadventure  in  England. 

The   Wynns  visited  the   Palace  of  the   Institute ;  Frank  Gray,  the 
Grand  Opera  House. 

"  I  would  like  to  go  to  the  river  this  morning,"  said  Tommy,  "  and 
sail  on  the queer  boats  there." 

"  The  flies,  or  water-omnibuses  ?  "  said  Master  Lewis.  "  I  will  go 
with  you." 

Tommy  looked  surprised  and  hardly  seemed  pleased,  not  that  he  did 
not  generally  like  Master  Lewis's  company,  but  because  it  looked  to 
him  like  a  restraint  upon  his  freedom. 

Birt  the  good  teacher  took  his  hat  and  cane,  and  Tommy  did  not 
express  any  displeasure  in  words.  The  two  went  to  a  splendid  stone 
bridge  called  the  Pont  d'Jena,  over  the  Seine. 

Compared  with  the  Mississippi,  the  Ohio,  or  the  St.  Lawrence,  the 


2/6        ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

Seine  is  but  a  small  stream.  The  river  is  lined  with  solid  stone-work  on 
each  side,  and  its  banks  are  shaded  with  trees.  It  is  filled  with  queer 
crafts,  and  a  multitude  of  families  live  on  the  barges  that  convey  wood, 
coal,  and  certain  kinds  of  merchandise  from  place  to  place. 

As  Master  Lewis  and  Tommy  were  standing  on  the  bridge,  watch- 
ing the  sloops  as  they  lowered  their  masts  to  pass  under,  an  astonishing 
sight  met  Tommy's  eyes. 

It  was  a  great  boat,  like  a  steamer,  but  without  screw  or  paddles, 
swiftly  passing  up  the  river  by  means  of  a  chain  which  rose  out  of  the 
water  at  the  bows,  ran  along  the  deck,  turned  around  wheels  which 
seemed  to  be  worked  by  an  engine,  and  then  slipped  overboard  at  the 
stern. 

"  How  far  can  that  boat  go  on  in  that  way  ? "  asked  Tommy. 

"  The  chain  by  which  the  boat  is  carried  forward,"  said  Master 
Lewis,  "  is  one  hundred  miles  long" 

Master  Lewis  and  Tommy  passed  some  hours  among  the  queer 
crafts  on  the  river,  taking  passages  here  and  there  on  the  flies  or  water- 
omnibuses. 

"  Were  you  afraid  to  trust  me  alone  this  morning  ? "  asked  Tommy, 
on  their  return. 

"  Well,  yes." 

"  Did  you  think  I  could  not  speak  French  well  enough  to  go  out 
alone  ? " 

"  Your  French  might  not  be  very  well  understood  here." 

"  I  think  I  can  talk  simple  French,  such  as  servants  could  under- 
stand very  well." 

In  the  afternoon,  being  somewhat  alone,  Tommy  thought  he  would 
explore  the  hotel,  which  was  something  of  a  town  in  itself.  He 
descended  from  his  apartment  on  the  third  floor,  with  the  intention  of 
going  to  the  court-yard.  But  he  could  not  find  the  place  which  had  so 
attracted  him  from  his  window.  He  tried  to  go  back,  but  lost  the  way 
even  to  his  apartment.  He  descended  again,  but  failed  to  find  any 


PARIS. 


277 


place  he  remembered  to  have  seen  before.  It  was  all  as  grand  as  a 
palace,  but  as  puzzling  as  a  labyrinth  he  had  seen  in  the  grounds  of 
Hampton  Court  Palace. 

He  said  to  one  after  another  of  the  very  polite  people  he  chanced 
to  meet,  — 

"  Please,  sir  [or  madam],  do  you  speak  English  ?  " 

He  received  only  smiles  of  good-will,  and  courteous  shakes  of  the 
head,  in  answer  to  all  inquiries. 

Tommy  remembered  his  French  lessons.  Happy  thought!  He 
accosted  a  servant,  whose  knowledge  of  the  language  he  fancied  might 
be  as  simple  as  his  own :  — 

"  Pardon,  Monsieur,  voulez-vous  avez  la 
bont'e  de  mindiquer  un  valet-de-place  ?  " 

"  ye  ne  comprends  pas"  said  he. 

"  ye  ne  comprends  pas"  said  Tommy. 
"  ye  ne  puis  pas  trouver  ma  chambre" 
pointing  upward.  "  Voulez-vous  mindiquer 
quelquun  qui  parle  I" Anglais  ?  ' 

"  ye  ne  comprends  pas? 

"  Ne  comprenez-vous  Fran^ais  ?  "  said 
Tommy. 

The  man's  face  wore  a  willing,  but  very 
puzzled  expression. 

Just  then  a  girl  with  a  happy  face  came 
out  of  one  of  the  rooms. 

"  Do  you  speak  " 

"  Why,  yes,  of  course  I  speak.  I 
am  very  glad  to  meet  you  here.  How 
pleasant!"  "JE  NE  COMPRENDS  PAS." 

It  was  Agnes,  the  young  lady  who  had  made  herself  so  agreeable  on 
the  steamer. 

The  next  morning,  after  a  chat  with  Agnes,  Master  Lewis  said  to 
Tommy,  — 


278      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC   LANDS. 

"  I  think  I  will  let  you  take  a  day  to  go  where  you  like." 
"  Will  you  not  let  me  go  with  you  ?  "  asked  Agnes.  "  It  is  a  fete 
day,  or  some  kind  of  Church  festival,  and  I  would  like  to  go  to  that 
lovely  church  of  St.  Eustache,  where  they  have  the  finest  organ  and 
sweetest  chanting  in  the  world,  I  know  you  will  like  it  It  took  a 
hundred  years  to  build  the  church.  It  is  all  just  like  fairy-land." 

As  Agnes  had  been  reading  the  comedies  of  Moliere,  the  French 
Shakspeare,  she  induced  Tommy  to  attend  her  to  the  old  Theatre 
Frangais,  which  was  under  the  direction  of  the  great  dramatist  for 
many  years,  and  where  he  was  stricken  down  by  death  in  the  middle  of 
a  play.  It  was  not  open  for  an  exhibition  at  the  hour  of  the  visit,  but  a 
courteous  Frenchman  took  them  through  it,  and  related  to  Agnes 
some  pleasing  anecdotes  of  Moliere. 

The  Class  took  many  delightful  walks  along  the  clean  streets  and 
charming  boulevards,  visiting  churches,  public  buildings,  statues,  and 
paintings.  In  one  of  the  visits  to  a  church  Tommy  was  much  amused 

by  a  priest  who,  as  the  people  were  going  out 
after  some  superb  music,  pretended  to  be  pray- 
ing, but  who,  amid  the  noise  and  confusion, 
was  only  making  contortions  of  his  face. 
Tommy  went  through  the  priest's  performance 
in  dumb  show  when  he  returned  to  the  hotel, 
for  the  amusement  of  Agnes,  but  was  checked 
by  Master  Lewis  when  he  attempted  a  similar 
imitation  in  one  of  the  public  rooms,  lest 
some  one  might  mistake  it  for  a  want  of 
reverence  for  sacred  things. 

In  one  of  these  walks  they  were  shown  a  place  where  a  French  boy 
did  a  noble  act  at  the  end  of  the  last  war. 

An  order  had  been  issued  to  shoot  all  persons  found  with  arms  in 
their  hands  in  the  streets.  A  captain  with  his  company  on  duty  came 
upon  a  French  boy  with  a  musket. 


PARIS. 


279 


"  I  must  order  your  execution,"  he  said. 

"  Let  me  return  a  watch  I  have  borrowed,"  said  the  boy. 

"  When  will  you  return  ?  " 

"  At  once,  upon  my  word." 

The  boy  went  away,  and  the  captain  never  expected  to  see  him 
again.  But  he  presently  came  back,  and  taking  a  heroic  attitude  said,  — 

"  /  am  ready,  Fire  /  " 

He  was  pardoned. 

"  The  young  French  people,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  are  very  patriotic. 
History  abounds  with  noble  acts  of  French  boys.  I  will  relate  an  inci- 
dent or  two  to  the  point :  — 

"Joseph  Barra  lived  in  the  interior  of  France  at  the  beginning  of 
the  French  Revolution.  He  was  a  generous-hearted  boy,  who  loved 
truth,  his  mother,  and  his  country.  He  was  a  Republican  at  heart ;  a 
boy  of  his  impulses  could  have  been  nothing  else. 

"  Wishing  to  serve  his  country  in  the  great  struggle  for  liberty,  he 
entered  the  Republican  army  at  the  age  of  twelve,  as  a  drummer  boy. 
His  whole  soul  entered  into  the  cause ;  he  was  ready  to  endure  any 
hardship  and  to  make  any  sacrifice,  that  the  country  he  loved  might  be 
free.  He  allowed  himself  no  luxuries,  but  he  sent  the  whole  of  his  pay 
as  a  musician  to  his  mother. 

"  His  regiment  was  ordered  to  La  Vendee  to  encounter  a  body  of 
Royalists.  One  day  he  found  himself  cut  off  from  the  troops,  and 
surrounded  by  a  party  of  Royalists.  Twenty  bayonets  were  pointed 
towards  his  breast.  He  stood,  calm  and  unflinching,  before  the  glitter- 
ing steel. 

"  *  Shout,'  cried  the  leader  of  the  Royalists,  '  shout,  "  Long  live 
Louis  XVII!  "or  die!' 

"  The  twenty  bayonets  were  pushed  forward  within  an  inch  of  his 
body. 

44  He  bent  upon  his  captors  a  steady  eye,  kindling  with  the  lofty 
purpose  of  his  soul.  He  took  off  his  hat.  He  gazed  for  a  moment  on 


28o       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

the  blue  sky  and  the  green  earth.  Then,  waving  his  hand  aloft,  he 
exclaimed,  '  Vive  la  R'epublique  ! ' 

"  The  twenty  bayonets  did  their  cruel  work,  and  the  boy  died,  a 
martyr  to  his  convictions  of  right  and  of  liberty. 

"Joseph  Agricole  Vialla,  a  boy  thirteen  years  of  age,  connected 
himself  with  a  party  of  French  Republican  soldiers  stationed  on  the 
Danube.  One  day  an  army  of  insurgent  Royalists  were  discovered  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  attempting  to  cross  over  on  a  pontoon. 
The  only  safety  for  the  Republican  soldiers  was  to  cut  the  cables  that 
held  the  bridge  to  the  shore.  Whoever  should  attempt  to  do  this 
would  fall  within  range  of  the  Royalists'  guns,  and  would  be  exposed  to 
what  seemed  to  be  certain  destruction. 

"  Who  would  volunteer  ? 

"  Every  soldier  hesitated.  The  boy  Vialla  seized  an  axe,  and  ran 
to  the  bank  of  the  stream.  He  began  to  cut  the  cables  amid  frequent 
volleys  of  shot  from  the  other  side,  when  a  ball  entered  his  breast.  He 
fell,  but  raising  himself  for  a  moment,  exclaimed, — 

" '  I  die,  but  I  die  for  my  fatherland  ! ' 

"In  the  Chant  du  Depart — an  old  French  revolutionary  song,  once 
almost  as  famous  as  the  Marseillaise — the  deeds  of  these  boy-heroes 
are  celebrated  in  the  following  strain :  — 

" '  O  Barra !  Vialla  !   we  envy  your  glory. 
Still  victors,  though  breathless  ye  lie. 
A  coward  lives  not,  though  with  age  he  is  hoary; 
Who  fall  for  the  people  ne'er  die. 

"  *  Brave  boys,  we  would  rival  your  deed-roll 

'Twill  guard  us  'gainst  tyranny  then ; 
Republicans  all  swell  the  bead-roll, 

While  slaves  are  but  infants  'mong  men. 

"  'The  Republic  awakes  in  her  splendor, 

She  calls  us  to  win,  not  to  fly ! 
A  Frenchman  should  live  to  defend  her. 
For  her  should  he  manfully  die  ! ' " 


PARIS.  28l 

Wyllys  Wynn  seemed  much  impressed  by  these  incidents  of  youth- 
ful heroism.  He  sometimes  wrote  poems,  and  on  his  return  to  the 
hotel  he  related  the  incident  of  the  boy  and  the  watch  in  these  lines, 
which  he  read  in  one  of  the  parlors  to  Agnes. 

HONOR    BRIGHT. 

The  rush  of  men,  the  clash  of  arms, 

The  morning  stillness  broke, 
And  followed  fast  the  fresh  alarms, 

The  clouds  of  battle-smoke. 

The  Seine  still  bore  a  lurid  light, 

As  down  its  ripples  run, 
Where  late  had  shone  the  fires  at  night, 

The  rosy  rifts  of  sun. 

"  Shoot  every  man,"  the  captain  cried, 
"  That  dares  our  way  oppose !  "  . 
Like  water  ran  the  crimson  tide, 
Like  clouds  the  smoke  arose. 

They  forward  rushed,  the  streets  they  cleared, — 

But  ere  the  work  was  done, 
Before  the  troop  a  boy  appeared, 

And  bore  the  boy  a  gun. 

"  Thou  too  shall  die,"  the  captain  said. 

The  boy  stopped  calmly  there, 
And  sweet  and  low  the  music  played 
Amid  the  silenced  air. 

"  Hold  !  "  cried  the  boy ;  "  a  moment  wait. 

For,  ere  I  meet  my  end, 
I  would  return  this  watch,  that  late 
I  borrowed  of  my  friend." 

"  Return  a  watch  ? "    The  captain  frowned. 
"  Your  meaning  I  discern  ; 
Such  honest  lads  are  seldom  found : 
And  when  would  you  return  ?" 

"  At  once  !  "  the  hero  makes  reply ; 
"  As  soon  as  e'er  I  can ; 
I  <will  return,  and  I  will  die 
As  nobly  as  a  man  !  " 


282       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS y   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  Well,  go ! "    The  lordly  bugle  blew, 

And  said  the  man,  with  joy, 
"  Right  glad  am  I  to  lose  him,  too, 

I  would  not  harm  the  boy." 

Some  moments  passed  ;  the  deadly  rain 

Fell  thickly  through  the  air ; 
The  smoke  arose,  and,  lo !  again 

The  boy  stood  calmly  there. 

The  muskets  ceased,  the  smoke-wreath  passed 

O'er  sunlit  dome  and  spire, — 
"  Here,  captain,  I  have  come  at  last, 
And  I  am  ready.'     Fire ! " 

As  marble  grew  the  captain's  cheek, 

He  could  not  speak  the  word. 
The  shout  of  Vive  la  Republique! 

Adown  the  ranks  was  heard. 

The  bugle  blew  a  note  of  joy, 
"  Advance  ! "  the  captain  cried,  — 
They  marched,  and  left  the  happy  boy 
The  colonnade  beside. 

We  sing  Vialla's  sweet  romance, 

Of  Barra's  death  we  read, 
But  few  among  the  boys  of  France 

E'er  did  a  nobler  deed. 

The  palace  burns,  the  columns  fall, 

The  works  of  art  decay, 
Bu*.  deeds  like  these  the  good  recall 

When  empires  pass  away. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 


BRITTANY. 

AVRANCHES.  —  RIDING  ON  DILIGENCES.  —  MONT  ST.  MICHEL.  —  CHATEAUBRIAND.  —  MA- 
DAME DE  SEVIGNE.  —  BRITTANY.  —  BRETON  STORIES.  —  STORY  OF  THE  OLD  WOMAN'S 
Cow.  —  STORY  OF  THE  WONDERFUL  SACK.  —  NANTES.  —  SCENES  OF  THE  REVOLU- 
TION AT  NANTES.  —  FENELON  AND  Louis  XV. 


HE  Class  went  by  rail 
from  Paris  to  the 
bright  Norman  dis- 
trict of  Calvados,  vis- 
iting Caen  and  Bayeux,  whose 
attractions  have  been  briefly 
sketched  in  the  letter  of  George 
Howe  to  Master  Lewis.  The 
next  journey  was  to  Avranches, 
or  the  "  Village  of  the  Cliff,"  by 
the  way  of  Falaise,  the  resi- 
dence of  Duke  Robert,  father 
of  William  the  Conqueror,  and  to 
the  quaint  town  of  Vire,  famous 
for  its  cleanly,  industrious  in- 
habitants its  grand  old  hills 
buried  in  woods,  its  great  way- 
side trees,  and  its  ancient  clock- 
tower. 

The  Class  met  few  people  on 


CLOCK    TOWER    AT    VIRE. 


284      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

this  journey.  The  canton niers  were  evidently  busy  with  their  own 
simple  industries.  Once  or  twice  the  boys  saw  gentlemen,  whom 
Master  Lewis  said  were  cures,  at  work  in  cool,  green  gardens;  and 
often  they  met  the  pretty  sight  of  women  and  girls  at  work  in  the  fields. 
The  cottages  were  thatched,  and  some  were  moss-grown,  and  all  the 
canton  wore  the  appearance  of  simple  contentment,  virtue,  and  thrift. 

Avranches  is  a  favorite  summer  resort  for  English  tourists,  owing 
to  the  beauty  of  its  situation,  its  health-giving  air,  and  the  ease  and 
cheapness  with  which  one  may  live. 

The  journey  from  Caen,  along  the  bowery  Norman  highways,  was 
made  in  diligences.  The  boys  seemed  to  brim  over  with  pleasure  at 
the  prospect  of  a  ride  in  a  diligence. 

"  There  is  one  place  where  contentment  and  happiness  may  surely 
be  found,"  said  Tommy  Toby,  one  day. 

"  Where  ?  "  asked  Master  Lewis. 

"  On  the  top  of  a  diligence." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sure." 

The  next  day  the  Class  was  overtaken,  while  travelling  in  the 
French  coach,  by  a  pouring  rain.  Tommy,  as  usual,  was  on  the  seat 
with  the  driver.  He  became  very  impatient,  saying,  every  few  minutes, 
"  I  wish  it  would  stop  raining,  I  wish  — "  this,  that,  and  the  other 
thing. 

"Tommy,"  said  Master  Lewis,  from  within  the  coach,  "are  you 
sure?" 

After  a  time  the  sunlight  overspread  the  landscape,  making  the 
watery  leaves  shine  like  the  multitudinous  wavelets  of  the  sea. 

Tommy's  merry  voice  was  heard  again,  talking  bad  French. 

"  Contentment  and  happiness,"  said  Master  Lewis  to  Frank,  "  have 
evidently  returned  again." 

From  Avranches  the  Class  visited  that  wonderful  castle,  church,  and 
village  of  the  sea,  Mont  St.  Michel. 


BRITTANY.  285 

The  journey  from  the  mainland  was  by  a  tramway  across  the  Greve, 
or  sands,  at  low  tide.  At  neap  tides  the  Mount  is  not  surrounded  by 
water  at  any  time,  but  at  spring  tides  it  is  washed  by  the  sea  twice  a 
day,  and  sometimes  seems  like  a  partly  sunken  hill  in  the  sea.  The 
fortress  is  girt  about  the  base  with  feudal  walls  and  towers  colored  by 
the  sea;  above  these  rises  a  little  town,  the  houses  being  set  on  broken 
ledges  of  rock ;  above  the  town  stand  the  fortifications,  and  a  church 
and  its  tower  crown  all.  It  is  one  of  the  most  curious  places  in  the 
world. 

Pagan  priests  here  worshipped  the  god  of  high  places ;  monks 
succeeded  them;  Henry  II.  held  court  here,  then  it  became  a  place  to 
which  saints  made  yearly  pilgrimages.  The  Revolution  drove  out  the 
monks,  and  turned  it  into  a  prison.  In  an  iron  cage  called  the  Cage 
of  St.  Michel,  a  torturous  contrivance,  state  prisoners  used  to  be  con- 
fined. 

The  Class  next  went  to  St.  Malo,  by  the  way  of  Dol ;  a  breezy 
journey,  with  the  sea  in  view. 

"  St.  Malo,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  was  the  birthplace  of  Chateau- 
briand, who  visited  our  country  after  the  American  Revolution,  and  in 
1801  wrote  an  Indian  romance,  '  Atala,'  a  prose  Hiawatha,  if  I  may  so 
call  it,  which  charmed  all  Europe.  He  published  a  political  work  on 
America,  which  had  great  influence  in  France.  He  was  in  early  life  a 
sceptic,  but  the  memory  of  a  good  mother  made  him  a  Christian,  and 
he  published  a  book  on  religion  which  arrested  the  infidel  tendencies 
of  the  times.  Louis  XVIII.  declared  that  one  of  his  pamphlets  was 
worth  an  army  of  one  hundred  thousand  men.  He  was  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  writers  France  ever  produced.  You  should  read  on  your 
return  '  Atala'  in  French.  You  will  find  an  edition,  I  think,  illustrated 
by  Dore,  in  which  the  pictures  will  compel  you  to  read  the  story." 

"  I  have  read  '  Atala,'  "  said  Frank. 

"  Would  you  like  to  visit  Chateaubriand's  birthplace  with  me  ? ': 
asked  Master  Lewis. 


286       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

Frank  was  very  desirous  to  see  the  place  at  once,  and  Master  Lewis 
and  he  went  to  the  house,  now  a  hotel,  immediately  on  their  arrival  in 
the  town.  From  the  windows  of  the  house  could  be  seen  the  tomb  of 
Chateaubriand,  which  is  on  a  little  island  in  the  harbor. 

When  Master  Lewis  returned  to  the  hotel  he  was  alone. 

"  Where  is  Frank  ?  "  asked  Tommy. 

"  He  is  to  spend  the  night  in  Chateaubriand's  room,"  said  Master 
Lewis.  "  Visitors  at  St.  Malo  are  allowed  to  sleep  there  on  paying  a 
small  sum." 

"  Is  Chateaubriand  living  yet  ? "  asked  Tommy.  "  I  thought  you 
said  he  came  to  our  country  after  the  Revolution." 

"  No,  he  died  many  years  ago.  Frank  and  I  have  just  been  looking 
from  the  windows  of  his  birthplace  at  his  tomb  on  one  of  the  little 
islands." 

"  But  Frank  is  not  going  to  stay  all  night  in  the  room  of  one  that 
is  dead  !  What  good  will  that  do  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  respect  that  appreciation  pays  to  genius,"  said  Master 
Lewis. 

Ernest  Wynn  wished  to  spend  the  night  with  Frank,  and  received 
Master  Lewis's  permission. 

"  Why,  Ernest ! "  said  Tommy,  "  I  thought  you  had  more  sense. 
I  am  glad  I  am  not  literary.  This  is  the  strangest  thing  I  have  met 
with  yet." 

Chateaubriand's  birthplace  is  the  Hotel  de  France.  His  room  is 
among  those  offered  to  visitors,  at  a  little  extra  cost.  Master  Lewis 
had  stopped  at  the  hotel  during  a  previous  tour. 

If  Tommy  was  surprised  at  the  "  respect  appreciation  pays  to  ge- 
nius," in  the  incident  of  sleeping  in  Chateaubriand's  rpom,  he  was 
more  so  by  a  conversation  which  took  place  next  day,  when  Master 
Lewis  made  his  plans  for  the  last  zig-zag  journeys. 

"  The  last  place  we  will  visit,"  he  said,  "  is  Nantes.  We  will  go  by 
rail  to  Rennes,  and  by  diligences  the  rest  of  the  way,  which  will  afford 


BRITTANY. 


287 


you  a  fine  view  of  Brittany.  At  Rennes,  we  will  make,  if  you  like,  a 
detour  to  Vitre." 

"  What  shall  we  see  there  ?  "  asked  Tommy. 

"  The  residence  of  Madame  de  Sevigne." 

"  Is  she  living?  "  asked  Tommy. 

"  Oh,  no." 

"  What  did  she  do  ?  " 

"  She  wrote  letters  to  her  daughter,"  said  Frank. 

"  Who  was  her  daughter  ?  " 

"  The  prettiest  girl  in  France." 

"  Is  she  living  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Frank,  impatiently.  "  Why,  did  you  never  hear  of 
the  Letters  of  Madame  de  Sevigne  ?  " 

"  I  never  did.     Are  her  letters  there  ?  " 

11  No." 

"What  is?" 

"  The  room  where  she  wrote  them,"  said  Master  Lewis. 

"  They  must  be  very  wonderful  letters,  I  should  think,"  said  Tommy, 
"  to  make  a  traveller  take  all  that  trouble." 

"  They  are,"  said  Master  Lewis.  "  Lord  Macaulay  says,  '  Among 
modern  works  I  only  know  two  perfect  ones ;  they  are  Pascal's  Provin- 
cial Letters,  and  the  Letters  of  Madame  de  Sevigne.' ' 

The  Class  was  now  in  Brittany,  a  province  old  and  poor,  whose 
very  charm  is  its  simplicity  and  quaintness.  Normandy  smiles  ;  Brit- 
tany wears  a  sombre  aspect  everywhere.  Normandy  is  a  bed  of  flow- 
ers ;  Brittany  seems  to  be  a  bed  of  stone.  Here  and  there  may  be  seen 
a  church  buried  in  greenery,  but  the  landscape  is  one  of  heath,  fern, 
and  broom. 

The  people  are  as  peculiar  as  the  country.  Their  costumes  are  odd, 
some  of  them  even  wear  goat-skins.  Many  of  them  lead  a  sea-faring 
life ;  it  is  the  Bretons  who  chiefly  man  the  French  navy. 

They  cling  to  old  legends  and  superstitions  with  great  fondness ; 


288       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;    OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

the  wild  country  abounds  with  wonder-stories.  Nearly  all  of  these 
stories  are  striking  from  their  very  improbability.  They  relate  to  an 
imaginary  period  when  the  Apostles  travelled  in  Brittany,  or  to  men 
and  women  who  were  transformed  during  some  part  of  their  lives  into 
animals,  especially  into  wolves.  The  story-telling  beggars  furnish 
much  of  the  fiction  to  the  unread  people. 

Those  legends  which  are  the  chief  favorites  are  undoubtedly  very 
old.  The  Class  listened  to  several  of  them  at  their  hotel  at  St.  Malo. 
Some  of  them  begin  in  a  way  that  at  once  arrests  attention  ;  as  the 
following  story  of  the 

OLD  WOMAN'S   COW. 

When  St.  Peter  and  St.  John  were  visiting  the  poor  in  Brittany 
they  stopped  one  day  to  rest  at  a  farm-house  among  the  trees,  where 
they  met  a  little  old  woman  who  kindly  brought  them  a  pitcher  of  cool 
water. 

After  the  saints  had  drunk,  the  old  woman  told  them  the  story  of 
her  hard  life.  She  had  seen  better  days,  she  said ;  her  husband  had 
once  owned  a  cow,  but  he  had  lost  it,  and  he  now  was  only  a  laborer 
on  the  place. 

"  Let  me  take  the  stick  in  your  hand,"  said  St.  Peter. 

The  saint  struck  the  stick  on  the  ground,  and  up  came  a  fine  cow 
with  udders  full  of  milk. 

"  Holy  Virgin  !  "  said  the  woman.  "  What  made  that  cow  come  up 
from  the  ground  ?  " 

"  The  grace  of  God,"  said  St.  Peter. 

When  the  saints  had  gone,  the  old  woman  wondered  whether,  if 
she  were  to  strike  with  the  stick  on  the  ground,  another  cow  would 
appear. 

She  struck  the  ground  as  she  had  seen  St.  Peter  do,  when  up  came 
an  enormous  wolf  and  killed  the  cow. 


BRITTANY.  289 

The  old  woman  ran  after  the  saints  and  told  her  alarming  story. 

"  You  should  have  been  content,"  said  St.  Peter,  "  with  the  cow  the 
Lord  gave  you.  It  shall  be  restored  to  you." 

She  turned  back,  and  found  the  cow  at  the  door,  lowing  to  be 
milked. 

Another  story,  which  greatly  pleased  Tommy  is 

THE  WONDERFUL   SACK. 

St.  Christopher  was  a  ferry-man.  He  dwelt  in  Brittany,  at  Dol. 
One  day  the  Lord  came  to  Dol,  and  wished  to  cross  the  river  with  the 
twelve  Apostles. 

St.  Christopher,  instead  of  using  a  ferry-boat,  carried  the  travellers 
who  came  to  him  across  the  river  on  his  broad  shoulders. 

When  he  had  thus  taken  over  the  Lord  and  his  Apostles,  he  claimed 
his  reward. 

"  What  will  you  have  ?  "  asked  the  Lord. 

"  Ask  for  Paradise,"  said  St.  Peter. 

"  No,"  said  St.  Christopher ;  "  I  ask  that  whatsoever  I  may  desire 
may  at  all  times  be  put  into  my  sack." 

"  You  shall  have  your  wish  ;  but  never  desire  money." 

One  day  the  Evil  One  came  to  St.  Christopher,  and  tempted  him 
to  wish  for  money. 

They  fell  to  righting,  and  the  fight  lasted  two  whole  days;  but,  just 
as  the  Evil  One  seemed  about  to  overcome  the  saint,  the  latter  said:  — 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Lord,  get  into  my  sack." 

In  a  moment  the  Evil  One  was  in  the  sack,  and  St.  Christopher 
tied  the  string,  and  took  him  to  a  blacksmith,  and  requested  the  use  of 
a  hammer. 

Then  St.  Christopher  and  the  smith  hammered  the  Evil  One  as 
thin  as  a  penny. 

"  I  own  I  am  beaten"  said  a  voice  from  the  sack.  "  Now  let  me 
out." 


290      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

"  On  one  condition,"  said  the  saint. 

41  Name  it." 

"  That  you  will  never  trouble  me  again." 

"  I  promise." 

The  ferry-man  now  began  to  lead  a  life  of  charity.  He  never 
thought  of  himself,  but  lived  wholly  for  others ;  and  every  one  loved 
him,  and  all  that  were  in  distress  came  to  him  for  comfort. 

One  day  he  died,  full  of  years,  and,  taking  with  him  his  wonderful 
sack,  he  started  for  the  gates  of  Paradise. 

St.  Peter  opened  the  gate.  But  when  he  saw  that  the  new-comer 
was  St.  Christopher,  who  had  slighted  his  counsel,  he  refused  to  admit 
him. 

The  Celestial  City,  blazing  in  splendor,  stood  on  the  top  of  a  high 
mountain ;  the  sound  of  music  and  the  odors  of  flowers  came  through 
the  gate  as  it  was  opened,  and  the  saint  with  a  heavy  heart  turned 
away  from  all  the  ravishing  beauty,  and,  hardly  knowing  what  he  did, 
went  down  the  mountain,  until  he  came  to  the  gate  of  the  region  where 
bad  souls  dwell. 

A  youth  at  the  gate  said  to  him,  — 

"  Come  in." 

The  gate  opened,  and  the  Evil  One  saw  him. 

"  Shut  the  gate  !  shut  the  gate  !  "  said  the  Evil  One  to  the  youth. 

Far,  far  away  the  Holy  City  beamed  with  ineffable  brightness,  and 
up  the  hill  again  with  a  still  heavy  heart  went  St.  Christopher. 

"  If  I  could  only  get  my  sack  inside  the  gate,  I  could  wish  myself 
into  it;  and  once  inside  the  gate  I  could  never  be  turned  out." 

He  came  up  to  the  gate  again,  and  called  for  St.  Peter. 

The  saint  opened  the  gate  a  little. 

"  I  pray  you  in  charity,"  said  St.  Christopher,  "  let  me  listen  to  the 
music." 

The  gate  was  set  a  little  more  ajar.  Immediately  St.  Christopher 
threw  into  the  celestial  place  the  wonderful  sack  ;  he  wished,  and  in  a 


REVOKING  THE   EDICT  OF  NANTES. 


BRITTANY. 


293 


moment  he  was  in  the  sack  himself, —  and  he  has  remained  in  the  re- 
gion  of  light,  music,  flowers,  and  happiness  ever  since. 

The  Class  went  by  rail  to  Rennes,  one  of  the  old  capitals  of  Brit- 
tany. It  was  hardly  interesting  to  them,  but  a  pleasant  ride  took 
them  to  Vitre,  where  the  boys  visited  the  residence  of  Madame  de  Se- 
vigne. 

Nantes,  the  ancient  residence  of  the  Dukes  of  Brittany,  is  situated 
on  the  river  Loire,  about  forty  miles  from  the  sea.  It  is  one  of  the 
largest  and  most  beautiful  of  the  provincial  towns  of  France.  In  the 
old  castle  Henry  IV.  signed  the  Edict  of  Nantes,  giving  freedom  of 
worship  to  the  Protestants  in  France. 

This  famous  Edict  was  published  April  13,  1598.  The  Reformers, 
or  Huguenots,  had  at  this  time  seven  hundred  and  sixty  churches.  It 
was  revoked  by  Louis  XIV.  in  1685,  under  the  influence  of  his  pre- 
lates, who  persuaded  him  thus  to  seek  expiation  for  his  sins.  The  re- 
sult of  the  act  was  that  four  hundred  thousand  Protestants,  who  were 
among  the  most  industrious,  intelligent,  and  useful  people  of  France, 
left  the  country  rather  than  to  give  up  their  religion.  They  took 
refuge  in  Great  Britain,  Holland,  Prussia,  Switzerland,  and  America. 
From  them  these  countries  learned  some  of  the  finest  French  arts. 

The  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes  was  one  of  the  many  acts 
of  injustice  that  opened  the  way  for  the  French  Revolution,  by  destroy- 
ing public  virtue. 

Some  of  the  most  terrible  scenes  of  the  Revolution  were  enacted  at 
Nantes. 

One  of  the  first  visits  made  by  the  Class  at  Nantes  was  to  the  old 
warehouse,  called  the  Salorges,  built  as  an  entrepot  for  colonial  mer- 
chandize, which  is  associated  with  the  inhuman  murders  of  the  Revolu- 
tion. Here  the  monster  Carrier  caused  men  and  women  to  be  tied 
together  and  hurled  into  the  Loire,  making  an  exhibition  of  the  cruelty 
which  was  known  as  Republican  Marriages.  It  was  in  front  of  the 


294      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

Salorges  that  executions  by  water,  called  Noyades,  were  performed. 
Boats  loaded  with  from  twenty  to  forty  victims  were  towed  into  the 
middle  of  the  river,  and  were  sunk  by  means  of  trap-doors  in  their 
sides,  which  were  opened  by  cords  communicating  with  the  shore.  If 
any  of  these  wretched  people  attempted  to  escape  by  swimming,  they 
were  shot.  As  many  as  six  hundred  human  beings  perished  in  this 
way  in  a  single  day.  The  whole  number  of  persons  thus  destroyed 
reached  many  thousands.  Women  and  children  were  drowned  as 
well  as  men.  The  river  became  so  full  of  bodies  that  the  air  was 
made  pestilent. 

This  was  during  the  dark  days  of  the  Reign  of  Terror,  when  Marat 
and  Robespierre  ruled  France.  Besides  the  victims  of  the  Noyades 
were  those  who  perished  in  other  merciless  ways.  Five  hundred  chil- 
dren were  shot  in  a  single  day,  and  were  buried  in  trenches  that  had 
been  prepared  for  the  purpose. 

"  I  do  not  wonder  that  Charlotte  Corday,  who  killed  Marat,  should 
have  been  regarded  as  a  heroine,"  said  Frank  Gray.  "  I  cannot  under- 
stand how  Frenchmen,  who  seem  to  be  the  most  polite,  obliging,  kind- 
hearted,  people  in  the  world,  could  have  been  led  to  do  the  bloody 
deeds  of  the  Reign  of  Terror." 

"  That  is  because  you  have  read  history  too  much  without  thought. 
In  reading  history  always  go  back  to  the  causes  of  things.  Read  back- 
ward as  well  as  forward.  All  the  great  palaces  in  France  you  have 
seen  were  built  by  the  money  of  an  overtaxed  people  who  had  no 
political  rights.  They  were  the  glittering  abodes  of  immorality.  Again 
and  again  France  was  governed  by  wicked  women  who  became  favor- 
ites of  the  king.  The  Huguenots,  who  were  the  sincerely  religious 
people  of  France,  were  compelled  to  leave  the  nation.  Think  of  it,  - 
four  hundred  thousand  people  going  away  from  their  native  country 
at  the  unrestrained  edict  of  one  bad  man.  Do  you  wonder  the  people 
of  France  desired  a  Constitution  for  their  protection  ?  The  nobler  or- 
ders of  the  Catholic  Church,  the  Jansenists  and  Port  Royalists  as  they 


FENELON  AND  THE  DUKE  OF  BURGUNDY. 


BRITTANY. 


297 


were  called,  were  also  suppressed.  The  Church  became  immoral, 
tyrannical,  and  almost  wholly  corrupt,  an  enemy  to  the  rights  of  the 
people.  The  reaction  against  such  a  church,  which  violated  all  the  pre- 
cepts of  the  Gospel,  was  infidelity. 

"  During  the  whole  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  the  cloud  of  Revolu- 
tion was  gathering.  Louis  saw  it,  but  he  was  so  given  over  to  sensual- 
ity that  it  little  troubled  him.  '  These  things  will  last  as  long  as  I 
shall,' he  said.  '  Apres  nous  le  deluge"  (after  us  the  deluge).  He  was 
wholly  governed,  and  the  nation  ruled,  by  Madame  de  Pompadour,  a 
corrupt  and  worthless  woman,  who  made  and  dismissed  ministers  of 
State  and  cardinals,  declared  war  and  dictated  terms  of  peace.  She 
declared  that  even  her  lap-dog  was  weary  of  the  f awnings  of  nobles. 
Are  you  surprised  that  Frenchmen  should  rise  against  such  a  state  of 
things  as  this  ?  " 

"  Was  not  Louis  XV.  educated  by  Fenelon,  who  wrote  Tefcmaque, 
the  French  text-book  we  have  been  studying  ?  "  asked  Frank. 

"  Yes,  the  most  corrupt  king  of  France  was  educated  by  the  purest 
and  most  lovable  man  of  genius  that  the  times  produced.  The  king 
was  a  wilful  child,  but  it  was  thought  that  Fenelon  had  quite  changed 
his  character  by  his  religious  influence.  He  was  subject  to  what  were 
called  '  mad  fits.'  I  might  tell  you  some  pleasant  stories  of  this  period 
of  his  life.  One  day,  when  Fenelon  had  reproved  him  for  some  grave 
fault,  he  said, — 

"  '  I  know  what  I  am,  and  I  know  also  what  you  are.' 

"  Fenelon's  prudent  conduct  quite  won  back  the  affection  of  the 
child. 

" '  I  will  leave  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  [his  title]  behind  the  door 
when  I  am  with  you,'  he  used  to  say,  '  and  I  will  be  only  little  Louis.' 

"  Fenelon  turned  the  boy's  mind  to  piety,  and  for  a  time  influenced 
him  by  it.  '  All  his  mad  fits  and  spites,'  he  said  of  his  pupil,  '  yielded 
to  the  name  of  God.' 

"  But  Fenelon,  like  all  good  and  pure  men  of  the  time,  was  con- 


298      ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

demned  by  the  court  and  the  Church.  Te&maque,  written  to  train 
the  mind  of  the  young  prince  in  the  principles  of  virtue,  caused  him  to 
lose  favor  with  the  court,  and  he  spent  the  last  years  of  his  life  in  vir- 
tual exile. 

"  Aside  from  Fenelon's  influence  the  prince  had  much  to  make  him 


THE    CATHEDRAL    AT    NANTES. 


LCU1S  XV. 


BRITTANY. 


301 


vain.  He  was  once  ill,  and  on  his  recovery  all  Paris  was  filled  with 
rejoicing.  An  immense  crowd  gathered  around  the  palace  on  the  eve 
of  St.  Louis's  Day  in  honor  of  the  convalescence.  As  the  boy-king 
stood  on  the  balcony  of  the  palace  on  the  occasion,  Marshal  Villeroy 
said  to  him,  — 

" '  Look  at  all  this  company  of  people  :  all  are  yours ;  they  all  be- 
long to  you  ;  you  are  their  master.' 

"  Think  of  a  boy's  being  told  that  the  people  of  Paris  belonged  to 
him ! 

"  I  can  wonder  at  the  Reign  of  Terror,  but  I  cannot  be  surprised 
at  the  Revolution  when  I  view  the  history  of  France  for  the  century 
that  preceded  it.  It  is  rather  a  matter  of  surprise  that  an  enlightened 
people  should  have  submitted  to  tyranny  so  long." 

Nantes  is  the  Paris  of  the  Loire.  Its  streets,  boulevards,  public 
squares,  the  forest  of  masts  in  the  river,  and  the  trees  that  line  its 
banks,  all  seem  a  copy  of  the  bright  and  gay  French  capital.  Its  old 
cathedral  is  a  queer-looking  building,  with  towers  scarcely  higher  than 
its  roof;  but  it  contains  a  most  beautiful  tomb  which  was  erected  in 
memory  of  Francis  II.  last  Duke  of  Bretagne.  It  is  adorned  with 
figures  of  angels,  the  twelve  Apostles,  St.  Louis,  and  Charlemagne. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  excursions  made  by  the  Class  from 
Nantes  was  to  the  ruin  of  the  old  castle  of 

BLUE-BEARD. 

There  existed,  many  centuries  ago,  a  ferocious,  cruel  old  lord,  whose 
treatment  of  his  wives  and  ogre-like  tyranny  to  all  around  him,  gave 
origin  to  the  thrilling  story  of  Blue-beard  ;  indeed,  the  story  was  so 
nearly  true  that  this  old  lord  was  actually  called  "  Blue-beard  "  by  his 
neighbors,  so  blue-black  was  his  long  and  stubby  beard. 

He  lived  in  the  old  days  when  barons  were  fierce  and  despotic,  and 
shut  their  wives  and  daughters  up  in  dark  dungeons  or  high  castle 


302       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OK,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

casements,  and  thought  little  more  of  ordering  a  score  of  peasants  off 
to  instant  execution  than  of  eating  their  breakfasts. 

He  was  a  rich  old  fellow,  and  had  several  castles  scattered  about 
the  country,  whither  princes  and  dukes  used  to  go  and  visit  him,  and 
share  in  his  hunting-parties  in  the  wildwoods. 

His  castles  were  situated  in  the  province  of  Brittany,  and  his  real 
name  was  one  which  is  still  to  be  found  in  these  secluded  regions, —  the 
Sieur  Duval.  The  lapse  of  time  has  caused  all  his  fine  castles  wholly 
to  disappear,  with  one  exception,  and  it  is  that  which  I  am  about  to 
describe  to  you. 

Sieur  Duval  had  his  favorite  residence  on  the  banks  of  a  lovely 
little  river,  about  two  miles  from  Nantes.  Here  he  was  near  town,  and 
might  ride  in  on  one  of  his  high-tempered  chargers  whenever  he  listed, 
to  join  the  revels  of  the  dukes,  or  go  wife-hunting. 

It  was  at  this  castle  that  his  cruelties  to  his  unhappy  spouses  are 
supposed  to  have  occurred ;  and  it  was  from  Nantes  that  the  brother 
of  his  last  wife  is  said  to  have  ridden  in  hot  haste  to  rescue  his 
wretched  sister  and  make  an  end  of  the  odious  old  tyrant. 

Taking  a  row-boat  by  the  high,  old  bridge  which,  just  on  the  out- 
skirts of  Nantes,  spans  the  river  Erdre,  you  find  yourself  at  first  on 
a  broad  sheet  of  water,  with  quaint,  whitewashed  stone-houses  and 
huts,  their  roofs  covered  with  red  brick  tiles,  and  occasionally  more 
handsome  mansions  with  lawns  and  gardens  extending  to  the  river- 
bank.  Here  you  may  perhaps  observe  a  row  of  curious  flat-boats 
with  roofs,  but  open  on  all  sides,  lining  both  banks  of  the  stream.  In 
these  are  a  number  of  hard-featured,  dark-skinned  women  of  all  ages, 
washing  clothes.  They  lean  over  the  boat-sides,  and  scrub  the  shirts 
and  handkerchiefs  in  the  water,  then  withdraw  them,  lay  them  smoothly 
on  some  flat  boards,  like  a  table,  and  taking  a  flat  hammer  pound  upon 
them. 

Presently  you  get  past  these,  if  you  row  vigorously,  and  come  to 
pretty  bends  in  the  river,  and  find  yourself  beyond  the  thickly-settled 


BRITTANY. 


3<>3 


part,  amidst  pleasant  rural  fields,  with  some  wealthy  merchant's  man- 
sion raising  its  towers  above  the  green  trees. 

After  a  while  you  approach  a  bright  little  village,  all  of  whose 
houses  form  a  single  street  just  along  the  banks  of  the  river.  Here 
you  disembark  and  pass  along  the  village  street,  across  a  rickety  bridge 
which  spans  a  little  inlet  from  the  stream,  and  so  out  into  the  country, 
and  through  paths  in  the  woods  thickly  grown  with  brush  and  wild- 
flowers. 

Presently,  soon  after  you  have  got  out  of  sight  of  the  village,  you 
ascend  a  gentle  hill,  and  suddenly  come  upon  an  old,  old  house,  with 
its  wooden  ribs  appearing,  crossing  each  other,  through  the  stone 
walls,  and  a  roof  that  looks  as  if  about  to  fall  in  upon  the  people  who, 
inhabit  it. 

Just  beyond  this,  deeply  imbedded  in  shrubs,  brush,  thickly-growro 
ivies  and  other  vines,  and  moss,  is  all  that  is  left  of  Blue-beard's  castle. 

The  walls  are  still  there,  dividing  the  apartments.  You  can  im- 
agine the  rooms  and  the  tower  which  arose  above  the  tall  trees  that 
here  cluster  on  the  river  bank.  And  you  may  fancy,  as  you  stand 
among  the  beautiful  ruins,  that  you  are  on  the  very  spot  where  the 
room  used  to  be  which  Blue-beard  forbade  his  last  wife  to  enter. 

Here  is  the  portal,  now  crumbled  and  almost  covered  with  moss  and 
ivy,  where  the  old  tyrant  came  in  and  out;  there  the  wall  where  the  last 
of  his  poor  victims  sat,  looking  out  and  straining  her  eyes  to  see  her 
brother  coming ;  beyond,  the  spot  where  Blue-beard  was  struck  down, 
and  received  his  deserts.  It  seems  too  beautiful  a  place  for  so  remorse- 
less an  ogre ;  and  as  one  looks  out  upon  the  lovely  scenes  where  the 
tearful  spouses  mourned  their  lot,  one  cannot  help  thinking  how  happy 
they  might  have  been  in  such  a  charming  retreat,  had  they  enjoyed  it 
with  loving  husbands  and  happy  homes. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

HOMEWARD. 
ON  THE  CLIFFS  AT  HAVRE.  —  STORIES  OF  FRENCH  AUTHORS.  —  AGAIN  ON  THE  SEA. 


three  days  more  remain  to  us  in  France,"  said  Master 
Lewis,  after  spending  two  days  in  Nantes.  "  We  will  now 
return  to  Paris  by  rail,  stopping  a  few  hours  in  Orleans, 
and  from  Paris  will  go  directly  to  Havre,  whence  we  will 
take  the  steamer  for  home." 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Wyllys  Wynn,  " that,  after  what  we  have 
seen,  I  shall  like  no  reading  so  well  as  history." 

"  It  has  been  my  aim,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  to  take  you  to  those 
places  where  the  principal  great  events  of  the  histories  of  England 
and  France  have  occurred.  I  stopped  at  Carlisle  to  give  you  a  lesson 
in  the  early  history  of  Britain,  —  the  periods  of  the  Druids  and  the 
Romans.  I  took  you  to  Glastonbury  to  give  you  a  view  of  the  history 
of  the  early  English  Church.  I  went  with  you  to  Aix-la-Chapelle  that 
you  might  receive  an  impression  of  the  dominion  of  Charlemagne. 
Normandy  is  the  common  ground  of  old  English  and  French  history. 
I  was  glad  to  select  it  for  you  as  the  direct  object  of  our  visit,  although 
it  has  formed  a  small  part  of  our  journey.  I,  like  Tommy,  have  had 
a  secret  which  I  have  kept  for  the  Club ;  it  has  been  to  interest  you 
in  the  places  and  events  which  would  lead  you,  on  your  return,  to 
become  more  careful  readers  of  the  best  books.  I  hope  the  journey 
will  leave  an  historic  outline  in  your  minds  that  future  reading  will 
fill.  Character  is  as  much  determined  by  the  books  one  reads  as  by 


HOMEWARD. 


305 


the  company  one  keeps.  Show  me  a  boy's  selection  of  books,  and  I 
will  tell  you  what  he  is  and  what  he  is  likely  to  become." 

"  Master  Lewis,"  said  Wyllys,  "  says  he  has  aimed  to  take  us  to 
such  historic  places  as  would  give  us,  at  the  end  of  the  journey,  a  con- 
nected picture  of  English  and  of  French  history.  Let  us  try  to  asso- 
ciate the  places  we  have  seen  with  historic  events.  As  I  think  of  our 
Scottish  and  English  journey,  I  connect, — 

"  Carlisle  with  the  Druids  and  Romans. 

"  Glastonbury  with  Early  Christianity  and  the  Boy  Kings. 

"  Normandy  with  William  the  Conqueror  and  his  sons. 

"  Nottingham  with  Robin  Hood  and  the  Norman  and  Plantagenet 
Kings. 

"  Boscobel  with  King  Charles. 

"  Edinburgh  with  Mary,  the  Edwards,  and  the  Douglases. 

"  Kenilworth  with  Elizabeth. 

"  Oxford  with  Canute  and  Alfred. 

"  London  with  the  Tudors,  the  Commonwealth,  the  Georges,  and 
Victoria." 

"  In  our  journey  on  the  continent,"  sai'd  Frank,  "  I  associate, - 

"  Brussels  with  Waterloo  and  Napoleon. 

"  Aix-la-Chapelle  with  Charlemagne. 

41  Ghent  and  Bruges  with  the  Dukes  of  Flanders  and  Burgundy. 

"Calais  with  Mary  Tudor  and  Edward  III.  of  England. 

"  Rouen  with  Charles  VII.  and  Joan  of  Arc. 

"  Paris  with  Charles  IX.,  the  Bourbons,  and  Napoleon. 

"  Nantes  with  the  Huguenots  and  the  Revolution." 

o 

"  We  have  also  had  views  of  the  homes  and  haunts  of  great 
authors,"  said  Ernest.  "  I  have  made  a  scrap-book  of  leaves  and 
flowers  from  the  homes  and  graves  of  men  of  letters,  and  it  includes 
souvenirs  of  nearly  all  the  most  eminent  names  in  English  literature." 

Havre  is  really  a  port  of  Paris,  and  is  one  of  the  most  thriving 
maritime  towns  of  France.  Like  most  port  towns  it  is  more  business- 


306       ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;  OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

like  than  picturesque.  The  Class  made  but  two  visits  here,  outside  of 
the  hotel.  One  of  these  was  to  the  birthplace  of  Bernardin  de  St. 
Pierre  in  Rue  de  la  Cordesis,  and  the  other  to  the  cliffs  on  which  the 
great  French  light-houses  are  erected  at  a  height  of  three  hundred  feet. 
It  was  in  the  bright  twilight  of  a  late  day  in  August  that  the  Class 
mounted  the  cliffs  and  overlooked  the  sea,  whose  waves  still  reflected 


the  vermilion  of  the  sky.  The  boys  were  sober  at  the  thought  that 
this  was  their  last  day  in  Europe,  and  that  they  were  now  to  return 
to  the  set  tasks  of  the  school-room. 

"  These  cliffs,"  said  Master  Lewis,  "  were  the  favorite  haunts  of  the 
author  of  '  Paul  and  Virginia.'  He  was  a  mere  theorist,  a  day- 
dreamer;  and  here  he  loved  to  gaze  on  the  bright  sea,  and  plan  expe- 


THE  READING  OF  "PAUL  AND  VIRGINIA." 


HOMEWARD. 


309 


ditions  of  republican  colonists  to  such  lands  as  he  paints  in  his  novels. 
His  expeditions  ended  in  the  air.  But  he  himself  went  to  Mauritius, 
where  he  lived  three  years.  On  his  return  to  Paris,  while  the  bright- 
ness of  tropical  scenery  still  haunted  him,  he  wrote  '  Paul  and  Vir- 
ginia.' " 

"  When   Corneille,  the  great  Corneille,  as  the  popular  dramatist 
came  to  be  called,  read  his  masterpiece,  Polyeucte,  to  a  party  of  fashion- 


RACINE. 


able  literary  people  in  Paris,  it  was  coolly  received  on  account  of  the 
fine  Christian  sentiments  it  contained.  The  criticism  was  that  the 
religion  of  the  stage  should  be  that,  not  of  God,  but  of  the  gods. 
Even  a  bishop  present  took  this  view. 

"  Bernardin  de  St.  Pierre  was  as  sharply  criticised  when  he  first 
read  in  public  his  beautiful  romance  of  *  Paul  and  Virginia.'     It  was 


310      ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS;   OR,    VACATIONS  IN  HISTORIC  LANDS. 

at  a  party  given  by  Madame  Necker.  '  At  first,'  says  a  writer,  '  every 
one  listened  in  silence ;  then  the  company  began  to  whisper,  then  to 
yawn.  Monsieur  de  Buffon  ordered  his  carriage,  and  slipped  out  of 
the  nearest  door.  The  ladies  who  listened  were  ridiculed  when  tears 
at  last  gathered  in  their  eyes.' 

"  Polyeucte  still  lives  in  French  literature,  and  the  wits  who  con- 
demned it  are  forgotten ;  '  Paul  and  Virginia '  charmed  France ;  fifty 
imitations  of  it  were  published  in  a  single  year,  and  it  was  rapidly 
translated  into  all  European  tongues.  It  remains  a  classic,  but  the 


RACINE    READING    TO    LOUIS  '  XIV 


critics  in  Madame  Necker's  parlors  are  recollected  only  for  their 
mistake." 

"  We  must  read  the  works  of  these  French  authors  on  our  return," 
said  Wyllys,  "  or  at  least  the  best  selections  from  them.  I  shall  wish 
to  read  '  Pascal's  Provincial  Letters '  and  the  Letters  of  Madame  de 
Sevigne,  after  what  you  have  said  of  them." 

"  You  should  also  read  some  of  the  best  selections  from  the  works 
of  Boileau,  Moliere,  and  Racine.  I  have  only  time  to  allude  to  them 
briefly  here. 


HOMEWARD.  3I1 

"These  authors  were  friends.  They  all  lived  in  the  time  of  the 
Grand  Monarch,  as  Louis  XIV.  was  called.  La  Fontaine,  some 
of  whose  fables  you  have  read,  belongs  to  the  same  period,  which  is 
the  greatest  in  French  literature. 

"Louis  XIV.  appreciated  nearly  all  the  great  writers  of  the  time; 
he  seems  to  have  felt  that  great  authors,  like  great  palaces,  would  add 
lustre  to  his  reign." 

"  I  think  that  we  might  better  change  our  society  on  our  return 
into  a  reading-club,"  said  Tommy  Toby. 

"  It  seems  to  me  your  proposal  is  a  very  good  one,"  said  Master 
Lewis.  u  We  may  be  able  to  travel  again.  If  we  should  visit  Ger- 
many or  the  Latin  lands  together  another  year,  a  reading-club  would 
be  an  excellent  preparation  for  the  journey." 

"  Very  much  better  than  a  Secret  Society,"  said  Frank.  "  Suppose 
you  give  the  Class  the  secret  you  devised  for  our  first  meetings, 
Tommy." 

"  Oh,"  said  Tommy,  soberly,  M  that,  like  most  of  my  other  plans, 
was  just  nothing,  after  all" 

Away  from  busy  Havre  the  next  morning,  under  the  French  and 
American  flags,  moved  a  little  ocean  world ;  and  on  the  decks,  looking 
back  to  the  fading  shores  of  old  Normandy,  and  cherishing  delightful 
memories  of  their  zigzag  journeys  in  historic  lands,  were  the  teacher 
and  the  lads  whose  winding  ways  we  have  followed. 


University  Press  :   John  Wilson  &  Son,  Cambridge. 


CENTRAL  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
University  of  California,  San  Diego 

DATE  DUE 


NOV061972 

NOV     2  idfii 

JUN  1  5  1984 

MAY  o  I  iQM4 

Ifini                  ICAJ^ 

C/39 

t/CSD  Libr. 

"X 


